A rainy night
I got the medicines and was on my way back home and took the back road route, less cars, less stress, more beauty and quiet. As I was getting close to Hwy 138 I noticed a long line of cars waiting for the light to change. I was taken by the beauty of the scene as well as how precious this particular moment was and how even in experiencing it, was gone. Can’t cling, but knowing how unique this trip was, this moment, and all the moments involved, gave a certain importance to what was just a common errand, yet it was not. There are no common moments, it is the perspective that happens when I don’t see, that gives the illusion of the unimportance of what is in front of me.
This evening I was walking around our cemetery looking at the graves….so many there now. When I entered the community in 1971 there were only 9, now there are 50, most of which are of men that I helped to take care of. As I was praying for them (a catholic thing), walking from row to row, I was amazed at the dates, how fast time flows. At some of the graves I felt more loss than at others. At one grave I felt deeply sorrowful, yet all of them were men of depth and faith, each having the complex mixture of good, bad, struggle and compulsion, strength and victory…..of which grace won out in the end.
I have this image of myself at 94 (though I doubt I will live that long), sitting in my room and thinking, I just turned 25, how can I be here? For me that is how fast life goes by, so maybe that was why I had that experience of the importance of an outwardly mundane moment, which in reality is not, since it will never be repeated again.
Don’t cling,
experience the nakedness
the moment,
drink in the Presence,
the silence
that simply is.
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