The beauty of this day already has my eyes full of water, tears of gratitude that I could even take such things in so deeply. Tears of joy at the prospect of a dear friend's wedding. The eyes moistening from such a brilliant response of the earth to this morning's sun after a day of slow and lazy drizzle. The wordless satisfaction of the swelling of healthy competition from a good workout, the kindest of words from a son, the beauty of marriage...all speak straight into the center of me, and make me feel more alive than I've dreamed possible.
A friend (thanks, Randy) passed along a book written by a man I have come to deeply respect over the years. Parker Palmer's A Hidden Wholeness is proving to be a capturing of something that resonates within me about as deeply as anything I've known on the "shape of an integral life, the meaning of community, teaching and learning for transformation, and nonviolent social change". He observes "how quickly words can cut loose from human reality" and credits his wife for helping him stay tethered to three questions as he writes: Is it worth saying? Is it said clearly? Is it said beautifully?
Here's an example:
There was a time when farmers on the Great Plains, at the first sign of a blizzard, would run a rope from the back door out to the barn. They all knew stories of people who had wandered off and been frozen to death, having lost sight of home in a whiteout while still in their own backyards.
The analogy's connection to our broader existence is striking. Another blizzard-reference characterizes something I recently tried to capture in my own life about 'a strange merger' I feel within me:
The blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of my soul.
-- Leonard Cohen, The Future
My, Oh my. I have only begun to live within and without. And, at times, the splash of sun on the tiniest drop of last night's dew can just about bring me to my knees in awe of it all.
