Tag: miracles

Make of Your Life a Song

In one of her most frequently quoted poems, Mary Oliver asks what we each plan to do with our “one wild and precious life.” A question that touches the depths of the soul—and the heart of all life on Earth. We were given our human lives by a universal intelligence beyond naming. Within that act of grace is infinite possibility and expression as well as a world of incredibly diverse experiences. Each day presents a kaleidoscope of wonders to us. When we are children, we see those wonders clearly, our eyes sparkling with delight. As adults, we begin to take them for granted. Our vision may become clouded with habit, loss, or misfortune. Life, of course, can be challenging as well as wondrous. Perhaps the greatest challenge is to continue to experience wonder no matter how your life unfolds.

One year ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It shook me to my core. Yet my actual experience of the months of treatment, in spite of any discomfort or pain, was filled with moments of connection to the Spirit of life, which carried me through the days with surprising synchronicities and inspiration. In the most profound of those moments, I felt one with everything, my own life part of a universal flow of beingness. Within that, my sense of wonder at the daily miracles of life—sunrise, birdsong, human kindness—reawakened and grew. Not that I had lost it, but so often life events get in our way. Our perception is incomplete, shaded. Until suddenly, an event or experience shines a light on each moment, showing it to be the miracle it is.

It may not be cancer that awakens this latent sense in you. It could be anything, perhaps just the course of a lifetime. Many of us, as we grow older, realize the relatively short time we have on this planet. A poignancy and appreciation fill us, an intention not to waste a moment in regret or complaint. The “one wild and precious life” we were gifted with suddenly reveals itself in all its splendor. You don’t want to miss an opportunity to meet each day with joy and gratitude.

There are countless ways to do this, as many possibilities as there are living beings on Earth. Those who have gone before us advise us to share with others our unique essence, our humanity as well as our divinity (they are inseparable) There is no one else like you, so don’t hold back. Make of your life a peaceful prayer, a poem of inspiration, a celebratory dance. Like the wood thrush and robin, make of your life a song that carries the love in your heart to all who hear it. Your soul will guide you.

This is why we were born, why we journey through challenge and crisis, to finally come to understand that each moment carries within it Heaven on Earth. The reward for living, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, is life itself. It sometimes takes an entire lifetime (or many lifetimes) to come to this realization, but each of us is destined to do so. We are currently living through an extraordinary time of transformation on this planet, one in which separation from Spirit and from one another will fall away, sometimes gradually and sometimes with a thunderous crash. We may think we are lost, but there is much more here than what our habitual perceptions show us. Our days are woven from a tapestry of miracles. Open your heart, and let it reveal to you the sweet song your life is meant to be.

The Birds!

“This kind of spring day, with the beautiful myriads of colorful sprites just arrived from tropical shores, has to be one of the greatest gifts on Earth.”—Kenn Kaufman

Inevitably, people ask me why I moved from Florida back to Massachusetts after only two and a half years. I answer a little differently each time, usually something about missing friends/family and the change of seasons. However, as spring begins to flower in New England, there is one answer that rises to the top: the birds! Meaning the spring bird migration that brings thousands of birds from Central and South America northward through Massachusetts. And right down the street from me to Mt. Auburn Cemetery, which is heaven on Earth for birdwatchers from April to June, especially the first three weeks in May. With the exception of the last two years, this is where I could be found early in the morning to mid-afternoon on most spring days over the past 30 years.

More than anything else, I missed this exciting yearly event.  Even though Florida has incredible birds of its own (herons, egrets, ibises, gallinules, pelicans, parrots, woodpeckers), it was the excitement of seeing warblers, tanagers, orioles, grosbeaks, and thrushes passing through Massachusetts (some nesting here) annually that tugged at my heartstrings and called me home. The thrill of encountering these beautiful songbirds each spring is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. Through long snowy winters, northern birders anticipate their arrival.

When the male cardinal begins to rehearse his spring song in late January or early February, even with snow on the ground and freezing temperatures, it is the first hint that indeed spring is not far away. Soon I hear house finches, song sparrows, and mourning doves singing, as the days lengthen and the changing light cues the birds for their seasonal roles. For me, robins turn the tide. Some of them overwinter in Massachusetts, but it is the arrival of flocks of migrating robins in March that lift my heart: I know that spring is right on our doorstep now. The trees and lawns fill up with robins, and they can be heard calling and singing in the mornings and often throughout the day. This is what I missed most in Florida: robins, with their red breasts, bright eyes, and cheery songs. They sing spring into being, and soon all the other amazing migrating birds follow.

Mt. Auburn is a green gem of woodsy wildness in the midst of the busy streets of Cambridge, Massachusetts. When I walk through its gates, I step out of the city and into the country, or the closest thing to it in a metropolitan area. Tree elders of all kinds, as well as native plantings, flowers, ponds, hills, and dells, are a striking visual invitation to birds who have flown all night on their thousands-of-miles marathon journey from Central and South America. They drop down out of the sky at dawn into this oasis and begin to replenish their life force by eating the insects that come to the flowering spring trees. And we bird-lovers are there to welcome them.

In April, the first warblers appear: yellow-rumped, palm, pine. Then as May begins, the rest begin to fly in: black-throated blue, black-throated green, black-and-white, yellow, northern parula, magnolia, chestnut-sided, bay-breasted, common yellowthroat, ovenbird, American redstart, and so many others. I especially anticipate seeing the Blackburnian with its fiery orange iridescent throat and the Canada with its delicate black necklace. Each warbler has distinctive markings and color patterns that can evoke audible gasps among birders when the sun lights their feathers and their varied songs fill the air.

Around the same time, Baltimore orioles, scarlet tanagers, flycatchers, vireos, and rose-breasted grosbeaks arrive, and the rainbow of bird colors expands. There is nothing to compare to the sight of flashy orange-and-black orioles swirling through the trees chattering at one another and whistling melodically. The scarlet tanager is another showstopper, brilliant red and black among the green leaves, singing its hoarsely sweet song. Then there are the thrushes, whose songs are ethereal flute-like trills in the quiet woods. The veery and wood thrush, in particular, always fill my heart with joy and my eyes with tears as I listen in silence, motionless. Listening as much as watching is the delight of being with birds.

In its simplicity, birdwatching teaches silent presence as well as immersion in the moment. Within that is also surrender to a powerful invisible life force that flows through the universe and carries humans and birds alike. Great spiritual wisdom is embodied in the lives of these tiny feathered beings and awakened in our own hearts. As Kenn Kaufman writes, “They live the briefest of lives, but they are bound to eternal things.” So many birds, so many wonders that play out each spring in a passing parade of color and sound like no other. We are incredibly blessed to share the Earth with birds, who fly so far to light up our souls with their songs and presence. Living miracles each one of them. Who would want to miss this once-a-year magic show? Not me. And that’s why I moved back to Massachusetts.

The Unbusy Life

Photograph © 2018 Peggy Kornegger
“I look; morning to night I am never done with looking.
Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around
as though with your arms open.”
—Mary Oliver

When Mary Oliver died last month, I felt I had lost a kindred spirit from this world. Someone who lived a life of deep connection to, and quiet contemplation of, nature’s never-ending miracles. All my life I have been drawn to quiet contemplative moments more than busy social activities. Even as a child, although I loved playing with my friends at school, something in me craved the experiences I had in my own backyard alone with nature.

I grew up an only child on five acres in the Illinois countryside, and I always felt most content outdoors by myself, sometimes reading in the branches of my favorite climbing tree, sometimes sitting in the grass watching ants or birds or clouds in the sky. Mother Nature nurtured my sense of the beautiful and miraculous in the world. In truth, this was my first experience of God. Beyond religious parameters and beyond words. In the silent language of the natural world, I found my spiritual home. And it has never left me.

In my adult life, when I worked at various editorial jobs and became active in feminist groups, I needed time alone in order to feel restored and whole. I took long walks in parks and nature sanctuaries and went on hiking trips to immerse myself in the natural world. And I wrote poetry and prose that arose from that silent inner space. The poet in me was always craving times of quietude and peace. To just be instead of do.

Through the years, I have found those moments of just being absolutely essential and nonnegotiable. They are the deepest form of life enhancement and spiritual connection for me. My sacred temple is nature. My form of prayer is standing with my “arms open,” contemplating the cosmos, in a grain of sand or in a galaxy. Mary Oliver always spoke to my heart when she wrote of her solitary and transcendent experiences in nature. To me, she epitomized being supremely engaged with all aspects of life as she observed the world around her with a loving poet’s eye:
“Do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed…
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?”

Mary knew the truth of life, what was really meaningful, not superficially so. Her writing, which came from her heart, touched readers’ souls, and many other hearts were awakened through the beauty of her poetry and prose. When I reread her work, I am always uplifted, always validated in my desire to connect deeply with nature on a daily basis, for my need to regularly step away from activities I love to be “not busy.” To hold within me a holy space where I can just “love this world/as though it’s the last chance I’m ever going to get/to be alive/and know it.” Thank you, Mary Oliver, for the gift of your voice and your presence on this Earth.
____________________
In memory of Mary Oliver, 1935-2019

Where Is God in This?

Photograph © 2018 Peggy Kornegger
When things aren’t going well, or the situation seems dire or extremely painful, we can call ourselves back from the cliff edge of despair with the simple inner question: “How is God present in this?” There are no coincidences, and our lives play out with our soul’s wisdom and God’s overview. Everything was chosen for our greater soul evolution before we even came into this lifetime. God is the midwife and helpmate in each situation. Actually, we are God, in the deepest part of our being. Everything that happens is meant to bring us to greater awareness and move us further along on our soul path. If we didn’t experience the poignancy of life, we wouldn’t be able to recognize and relish the joy. They are both part of the miracle of being alive on this Earth in the middle of a whirling mysterious cosmos, which at its heart is God as well.

My own life has been a roller-coaster ride this past year as I moved from one section of the country to another. I was very clearly guided to this next step in my life. We are always guided, of course, but we often don’t listen or see the signs, and the divine energy of the universe comes up with innovative ways to get our attention. The “sign” in this case was one that said For Sale in front of the house where my partner and I rented. There was no doubt in our minds that we were meant to make this move. Even though there have been, and continue to be, both blessings and losses along the way, I still feel that certainty.

What makes me so certain? Well, it’s an inner knowing and trust in a greater soul plan for my life. That trust has opened me to seeing the signs, sometimes very subtle ones, along the path in front of me. A chance encounter with a stranger or conversation with a friend can lead me to a next step. Everyone has a message for us—it helps to be open to hearing God wherever we go. Your own intuition is also God’s voice.

It may not always be obvious, but synchronicity runs like an electric wire of energy throughout your life. When I hold that in my awareness, I see the connections and cosmic arrows continually. Life becomes a magical game of risk and reward, listen and act, give and receive. Yes, reciprocity is part of the energy. The more you “return the favor” in helping others and living your life with generosity of spirit, the more the universe smiles and opens the door even wider.

Of course, life is not always smooth sailing and rewarding experiences. Sometimes, there is pain, loss, and intense challenge. It is particularly at these times that we need to consider how God may be present in this or how it is part of our own soul evolution. You may not always immediately know. I certainly don’t. It may take years to have a light-bulb moment when you “get” why something happened the way it did, how it moved you along to another necessary point in your life. The key is to continue to trust that there is always a divine presence within us and all around us that is moving us forward. If we are open to that, if we let go of our fear and just ride the current, then eventually the larger picture becomes clear.

At least that’s how I’ve experienced it. I don’t yet know all the “reasons” why I was moved to make this major change in my life, but I continue to surrender to possibility, even when things seem not to be going well (a sudden episode of lower back pain; a close friend moving away). Even on the most challenging day, the sunrise outside my window is spectacular, and heaven itself appears to be opening its heart to me. So ultimately, it’s all in how you see your life experience, how you frame each day, each moment, and how you embrace change.

“Trust in God” is not just a religious platitude or throwaway coin maxim. It is the key to everything in life. And if you don’t really resonate with the word God, just say “trust.” The words don’t matter. It’s the feeling of something greater at play, that your life is not a mistake. It’s a miracle that you only see when you are open to it. Then life itself opens up all around you.

In the Details

Photograph © 2018 Peggy Kornegger
“God is in the details,” some wise individual once said. Different people interpret that sentence differently, but for me it means the Divine lives in every seemingly insignificant detail in the world. God does not show up solely for fiery sunsets, mountain panoramas, and sacred ceremonies. God is also in the tiny ant crawling across the picnic table and the voice of a neighbor singing off-key at 6 a.m. God exists beyond judgment and circumstance. God is everywhere.

My own experience of God over the years has frequently been rich with color, light, and sound, as well as tears of gratitude and awe. Sunlight on a flower at dawn or Andrea Bocelli singing Italian love songs both make me cry, as does the exquisite imagery of a poet like Mary Oliver or the inspiring words of a spiritual master. Yet, I am finding as my life journey continues that perhaps the most profound connection with God is in the finely drawn details of daily life. Seeing God in subtlety is perhaps the greatest blessing of all.

To gaze at a luminous bird of paradise or a faded handmade quilt with equal reverence. To recognize spirit in every living being. I saw God, as well as many lifetimes shared, in my father’s eyes as he neared the end of his life. I also saw God in the eyes of a black-and-white pit bull who turned to look intently at me as he passed by with his human companion. Each of these experiences moved me profoundly. There was no doubt in my mind that I was in the presence of divine spirit (only the form differed), and grace had allowed me to see it.

Although my experiences of God are at times powerful, at other times they are less dramatic, such as a synchronicity or sign that redirects my path in a small but significant way. God’s presence is not always obvious, as when rays of golden light illuminate the landscape in magical and breathtaking ways. It is in the quiet, simple moments as well—waking to a new day with fresh energy and enthusiasm, feeling the gentle touch of a loved one’s hand, hearing a mockingbird’s song late on a summer evening.

God is also in the seeming catastrophes of life when things fall away or apart, and we feel lost and helpless. Invariably on the other side of those experiences is a wider horizon, a new vista, and the opportunity to expand even further on our life’s journey. Everything holds within it possibility and the full spectrum of life’s experiences. The recent appearance of a For Sale sign in front of the house where my partner and I have rented an apartment for ten years opened the door to an exciting new adventure for us in a completely different part of the country.

So, as I go through my day, I am grateful when I notice and appreciate the myriad details that surround me. For therein is a connection to spirit that does not rely on visual or audial drama and fanfare. Life just is—and every part of it is a miracle. Ultimately, the truth is that each one of us is God seeing God everywhere. There just is nothing else.