From the outside, all is cold, pristine, untouched. But inside the barn is full of the warm breath of cows, the smell of manure, the sound of animals rustling and chewing. Not so pristine, but very much alive.
Where is life and growth hiding for you, in all its complex messiness?
There is no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. OK, or any rainbow. What you get is the rainbow itself, all the colors of light on brilliant display.
What recent experience have you cherished just for itself, and not for any possible use it could bring you?
For some it is a way of life—to observe, to note, to take in the small details. For those of us who are not owls it requires an ongoing discipline of cultivating wide eyes to notice life’s tiniest blessings.
What do you see right now if you enter the mode of wide eyes?
Perhaps there is all kinds of activity going on under the surface of the cold lake, in the bare branches of the trees. But, for just a little while, it might be enough to just find the stillness, the calm, the brief moment when nothing much changes.
Where do you go to find stillness?
Today I was reading about Marie Curie:
she must have known she suffered from radiation sickness
her body bombarded for years by the element
she had purified….
She died a famous woman denying
her wounds
denying
her wounds came from the same source as her power.
—Adrienne Rich, from the poem “Power”
How does your power come from the same source as your wounds?
