Decadence can be experienced in the smallest of Mother Earth’s pleasures. There is something magical about picking wild, ruby red raspberries on a slow-glow afternoon in the middle of the week, out there along the creek’s edge. The transparent fluff of dandelions gone by lingering alongside the effervescent aromas of untamed wheat recently plowed and bailed. The peck and caw of angry crows, their black glistening feathers lurching and dancing in the tree tops negotiating space with a family of hawks, alongside the sound of the virtuoso voices rising from the creek’s inhabitants. This is where the veil parts slightly and one of the true forms of magic appears, as it makes its way up to the surface of summer, sharing its hidden and tucked away places in pockets of trees, wisps of emerald green grass blades, and the nostalgic whine of summer’s lazy breezes. It is here and there and here again where time does not necessarily stand still: on the contrary. She extends an invitation into a deeper time, a kairos time where the ground is sacred and bestows all knowing. A time filled with ardor and dreams. A time filled with humility, and breath, and surrender – a time of gratitude. It is here that true time dwells, the time of the heart, and of being.
There is a dance here, and a question. Who are you? Time arouses syncopation with the deepest of thought, calling upon us to venture deeper into the understanding of who we are, and what we are called to do. And yet, how diligently are we about time, one of life’s most precious gifts? Is it squandered, or twittered or tweeted away? Is it filled with a lamentation of a lost desire or passion? Does it demand that we stand face-to-face with what impassions us the most? Dare we risk? Dare we commit? Dare we even ask? Dare we simply kneel and know the ‘souffrance’ of humility, as we even for a moment engage with the possibility that we take time for granted? The next time you take the time to watch the sun go down, watch it with an empty mind, or rather let the sundown empty your mind. Park your thoughts along the roadside. Savour the wild, ruby red raspberries, and cling to the breath of life that is yours. And ask this angelic space if you allow yourself the privilege of entering the room of questions that are yours to hold.
Belonging is such a sacred place. Who do we truly belong to? And in the presence of this breath, what are we called to do, with our precious, limited moments of time? In ancient monastic times there were precursor symptoms depicting the nature of a wounded soul: restlessness, anxiety, turbulence, impatience, sloth – apathy. This “soul thief,” this ‘demon’ had and still has the capacity to rob us blind of our being, and our caring, and our empathy. It is known as acedia. And I wonder if there is possibility that this ancient bad thought that can actually be found referenced as far back as Gilgamesh and the Old Testament, I wonder if it is still prevalent today? And how do we come to terms with our own acedia? What causes our acedia? ! How do we come to grips with our own apathy? How do we find the voice of our conscious and motivate ourselves out of the mud, out of the technological mayhem, and back into the savory whisper of wild, red raspberries? How to we find our way back home to our place of belonging, our place of stillness? Simple thoughts, food and reflection for the contemplative journey.
As I move deeper into my Doctoral studies, I am looking at acedia and its possible link with identity crisis, and our relationship with time and beauty. I ask about beauty and her role in our identity. Not as mere humans but as grace-filled human beings called to reconcile our grace as we dance with time: today. Hopefully we may be present to Her mind, and may it replenish our understanding of our task. Our task to mission, our spiritual purpose, and the havoc that is created when we simply don’t care.
Any thoughts that you may feel so inclined to share are always welcome.
In the meantime…my wish for you is that you find your way to a full cup of wild, ruby red raspberries…. see you in the fields.
Blessings for the journey, peace for the day.