Posts Tagged ‘Philosophy’

Hey, God…

The water was unusually low as I went across the bridge, an almost unsightly combination of colors and elements that was not the sparkling eye candy I am accustomed to enjoying at that time of day. Receded, the water left behind a visual cacophony of unsightly sea gunk. I was slightly disappointed not to see the usual whiz-bang scenery.

Upon closer examination, I noticed the once-hidden things now evident: fresh shellfish, elusively perfect seashells, sweet seaweed that nourishes the undersea life, and greater treasures in all their glory. I had greatly underestimated, and at first glance diminished, the true bounty of the unseen.

Oh, how we can be lulled into the comfort of what we perceive to be the eye-catching ideal, when so much more lies below, more than we can comprehend! We do this with things…with situations…with people. Take heed what our eyes are drawn to, that we don’t miss what is directly underfoot because we are comparing, expecting, supposing, idealizing, judging.

May we always be aware of the great riches underneath the glitter of that which we believe to be gold.

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Hey, God….

So what’s up with dreams? Do You control the programming on those channels, or when You designed our brains, You just sort of set things in motion and let ’em spin? What a mystery.

Moments ago I was in some surreal world…a freeflowing puppet starring in some other-planetary production in which I was among the cast of characters. I evidently knew all my lines, but it wasn’t me knowing them. I was both audience and thespian, simultaneously. What marvelous capacities You designed us with…and with such limitations, all the necessary harnesses built in. I awake and cannot grasp the fading dreamscape; it haunts and teases me, making sure I remember it’s there somewhere within my being, yet I cannot access it at will. You remind me that You have made us with things even we cannot comprehend and control. That in the end, it really does boil down to You and Your will. So why do we fight that most of our lives, even when we think we’re being or acting close to You, and why do we not just succumb to Your will sooner? How can we ever think we can know all things, when there are things we cannot know (and deep down, we know that we cannot know)?

Why isn’t it easier to choose Your will?

Stubborn, foolish little creatures we are!

So here I sit with You and my coffee on the beach chair, watching the sun rise, hoping the humidity isn’t frying the laptop. What a glorious day You have made. Awesome birds chirping and singing, Lord. Do birds have dreams, too? I love the mix of cicadas and crickets, too. The crickets, wrapping up their nighttime symphony and fading into to rising light of day…the regular cicadas, slowly warming up their chorus and reaching a feverish crescendo up in the trees, and then their relatives, the other group which prides itself on rhythm, the steady bzz-bzz-bzz-bzz-bzz that lends itself to comfortable predictability and reminding me what part of the planet I currently occupy.

And the rest of this part of the planet is sitting in church just about now, and derelict me sitting here (as I cannot hear You as well when I’m surrounded by man-made noise), enjoying You all to myself (and all You have made). Thank You for the serenity of this morning. Thank You for answering some of my questions, and allowing me to wonder about others. For if there was no wonder, to whom would we turn? Some questions demand to remain unanswered and unknown, for they are usually spoiled in one way or another when we try to ascribe our version of an answer to them.

I do not know why I am drawn to the seashore, but You have provided the elements with which I can joyfully dig in the sand, get my hands all goopy and messy, and fill that pail with my little shovel. I don’t understand why this is the sequence of things,but it is right and good, and one’s soul knows it. I might get biffed by a wave as the tide rises, but this just adds to the elements going into my pail and makes it a better sand castle when I dump the whole thing upside down. I am only vaguely aware of the fresh scent of the sea breeze giving life to my endeavors in the pail, but it fuels me along with the happy sun, and all is well.

It is then good, I conclude, to remain as a child: perceiving the world as a dreamscape (with dreams as real and true as waking moments), taking innocent comfort in blurred realities, doing what a child is supposed to do without adopting unnecessary worries…and ever remaining filled with wonder.

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