Celebrate life: Jump in rain puddles – Christina Taylor Green

The little girl Christina Taylor Green who was killed in the Arizona Shootings last weekend was born on  September 11th, 2001. Along with other babies born on that day, she was featured in a book called “Faces of Hope.”  In it we see a photo of her, with, on either side, simple wishes for a child’s life. She expresses the wish,  “I hope you jump in rain puddles.It is a lovely thought, made all the more poignant by the tragic nature of her passing.

This probably would not be my normal response when coming across a puddle on the path. “Jump in, splash around“? My sensible mind would protest: “It would ruin my shoes. People will be watching. I would look daft”. We have a sense of  wonder and adventure in us as children before we cover it over as we “mature” and divide ourselves into what is seen and what we keep to ourselves. Somewhere along the way to adulthood we learn to hide ourselves, to appear reasonable, not spontaneous, to prefer order and routine to surprise. We become preoccupied the day-to-day problems of our lives and set out in the morning with a set of implicit or explicit goals. When the unexpected happens, like snow or rain puddles, it is seen as an inconvenience or a detour.  We get so goal-orientated, as if everything has to be won, that we do not see the fun that can be had in simply playing the game. Things can become difficulties or obstacles and not opportunities for play and spontaneity. We even can treat our recreation or sport as something to be “done”, serving some other aim.  It is as if being surprised or spontaneous is dangerous or makes us weak. We mask our sense of play out of fear of being judged as immature or too emotional.

Keeping the heart open with the eyes of a child is the key:  Enlarging our vision of all the  things that happen in the day- for surprise and for wonder –  even  the things we see a thousand times. And then giving voice to that sense of astonishment. To jump into the things that life brings, without holding back.  To be open to all, even that which we would prefer to avoid. The gospel tells us that the kingdom of heaven – the fulness of life –  belongs to those who welcome it like children. The shortness of little Christina’s life reminds me not to let life pass me by, to let go of those things which block my heart, to see things and people as if for the first time, to stop dwelling in the hurts of the past or the schemes of the future and to see wonder now.

We inhabit ourselves without valuing ourselves, unable to see that here, now, this very moment is sacred; but once it’s gone – its value is incontestable.

Joyce Carol Oates

When disappointment is good

That’s the magic moment-when we realize that searching outside of ourselves is not the way. At first it dawns on us just a little bit. And it gets clearer over time, as we continue to suffer. See, anything that we search for is going to disappoint us. Because there are no perfect beings, perfect jobs, perfect places to live. So the search ends exactly in one place, which is… disappointment. A good place. If we have any brains at all, it finally dawns on us: ‘I’ve done this before.’ and we begin to see that it isn’t the searching that’s at fault, but something about where we look. And we return more and more to the disappointment, which is always at the center.

The very peace we’ve been searching for so hard lies in recognizing this fact: I’m pinching myself. No one’s doing it to me. So the whole search begins to be abandoned and instead of searching, we begin to to see that practice isn’t a search. Practice is to be with that which motivates the search, which is unease, distress. And this is the turning around.

Charlotte Joko Beck, Everyday Zen

Wherever

Wherever we are

we have the capacity to enjoy the sunshine,

the presence of each other

and the wonder of our breathing.

Thich Nhat Hahn

Sunday Quote: On seeing the dawn in winter

One may not reach the dawn

save by the path of the night.


Kahlil Gibran

Working with what is

So be reposed

and praise, praise, praise

The way it happened

and the way it was.

Patrick Kavanagh, Irish Poet, Question to Life

Welcoming each moment as something new

Gratefulness sprouts when we rise to the challenge of surprise. Gratefulness can be improved by practice. But where shall beginners begin? The obvious starting point is surprise. You will find that you can grow the seeds of gratefulness just by making room. If surprise happens when something unexpected shows up, let’s not expect anything at all. Let’s follow Alice Walker’s advice: “Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise.”

To expect nothing may mean not taking for granted that your car will start when you turn the key. Try this and you will be surprised by a marvel of technology worthy of sincere gratitude. Or you may not be thrilled by your job, but if for a moment you can stop taking it for granted, you will taste the surprise of having a job at all, while millions are unemployed. If this makes you feel a flicker of gratefulness, you’ll be a little more joyful all day, a little more alive.

From there it is only a small step to seeing the whole universe and every smallest part of it as surprising. From the humble starting point of daily surprises, the practice of gratefulness leads to these transcendent heights. Thomas Carlyle pointed to these peaks of spiritual awareness when he wrote, “Worship is transcendent wonder” – transcendent surprise.

Brother David Steindl-Rast