Forever and Ever…

When I was five or six years old, I began having a recurring nighttime thought that terrified me. I described it to my mother as “The world goes on forever and ever.” My mind froze with fear when that perception arose in my consciousness, and I sat bolt upright in bed shaking my head frantically to get rid of it. My mother tried to help by suggesting I distract myself with happier thoughts. Her loving presence comforted me but did not erase the underlying feeling of terror and overwhelm. Years later I called it fear of infinity or eternity.

It felt like I was looking into the farthest stretches of the universe, an infinite void with no beginning and no end. As a child, I had no language or framework for that. It was so huge, so vast, I felt lost, engulfed. As a young adult, I ran from it, attempting to avoid its appearance in my night thoughts. Eventually I embarked on a journey of spiritual seeking, trying to come to some understanding of the nature of life/death, and resolution of my own existential despair—the grief beneath the fear of “forever and ever.”

Over the years, various teachers, in particular Panache Desai, helped me see infinity in a more positive light—indeed as light, as spirit. I was looking into the darkness, but within the darkness was the light of eternal Spirit, which cannot really be understood but only experienced. A five-year-old child staring at that limitless space does not recognize it as God or Spirit but rather as the unknown; emptiness. Something to be feared. Only recently have I begun to see my child’s vision as a soul gift, which set me on a life path of searching for the meaning of life and learning about Spirit’s presence.

I have tremendous gratitude for that gift, for the awareness it has brought me through so many spiritually expansive experiences. Yet there still remains a kernel of sadness within me as well. A recognition that life’s mysteries can never be solved. Many Native American cultures teach that only in complete acceptance of the “Great Mystery” as such is there peace. I’m finally reaching that view now, and I realize it is all part of my soul’s plan for my life.

For years, I thought that I could “solve” the mystery, and my nighttime fear of infinity would disappear entirely through “understanding” God. This was partially true: deeper soul awareness and trust in the wisdom of Spirit softened the edges and frequency of the fear. Ultimately, however, I am learning that only in full acceptance of life as is, as profound divine mystery, does total inner peace arise. I still have passing moments of sadness or grief about the nature of human life and death and “forever and ever.” At those times, the only “answer” is acceptance, surrender, complete letting go. If I take a deep breath and look up, seeing the infinite blue sky with my soul’s eyes, I feel peace. And perhaps that’s the greatest wisdom of all. 

Finding Softness in a Hard World

We are constantly bombarded these days with images of violence, conflict, fear, and hatred, whether on the news or in films and TV shows. Varied voices surround us, advocating anger and defiance or peace and compassion—or all simultaneously. Each voice belongs to a human being wearing an identity costume that hides their vulnerability. As individuals and as a people, we are in distress. The world seems on the brink of destruction. Yet in the midst of it all, there are also voices that remind us that this is a transformative transitional time, foretold in ancient cultures. We are not here to perish but to prevail, as spirit, as light.

Sound like a fairy tale? A fabricated distraction that feeds inertia? I don’t think it is. Perhaps belief in a greater purpose to life and living will be what gives us strength and stamina to continue to live love and hope in a world divided into fragmented sectors of adversity and suffering. Birth pains bring new life into being. Thunderstorms and floods are often followed by rainbows and clear air. Not everything is as it appears on the surface. A hard shell covers a soft center.

If we choose soft instead of hard in every situation, we engage the softest part of us, the heart. And the heart, through which the soul is expressed, is also the strongest survival tool we have. The greatest sages through the ages spoke of the wisdom and power of loving-kindness. In the face of life or death, be loving, be kind. Ask, “Can I help you?” One small gesture or word, amplified, can shift the consciousness of a planet. This is why we came here. Not for the easy ride or the simple tasks, but for the challenge of speaking the softest words and offering the gentlest touch in times of fear or trauma.

On any given day, we have that choice, we have that soul responsibility. When the entire world feels harsh and unfeeling, remember the power of your heart and soul and the reason why you (and all of us) were born.

The Miracle of Murmuration

There is a wonderful video online that shows thousands and thousands of starlings flying in synchronized sweeping movements through the skies of the Netherlands. It is a fantastical aerial dance, the birds moving as one across the entire sky. This spectacular sight has a name: murmuration, which refers to the sound of the birds’ wings. The term is applied specifically to starlings, and it doesn’t only occur in Europe. I have seen hundreds of starlings in Massachusetts flying like this, swooping and changing directions repeatedly, high overhead, moving as one mind, one avian soul. An astonishing sight. 

To me, murmuration is a perfect visual demonstration of how we live in a cosmically connected universe orchestrated by a greater Intelligence. There are no events or experiences that are not part of this infinite whole, which forms a kaleidoscopic tapestry of moving light and color. In our daily lives, we don’t usually notice how it all fits together, but occasionally something may make us stop and stare in wonder: a spectacular lightning storm; a lunar or solar eclipse; migrating Canada geese flying in a perfectly formed giant V. As we pause, we may speculate on the possible source of these phenomena (Spirit? Nature?), but whatever name we use for life’s magic and mysteries, the miracles on this Earth are beyond human language. We can only experience them in awe.

A number of years ago, I went on several trips to swim with wild dolphins and whales in the open ocean. Dolphins too engage in their own form of “murmuration.” They frequently move as one as they travel through the seas. “Dolphin mind” I’ve called it, and I’ve been part of it myself on more than one occasion. Once, as I swam at a distance from a pod of spinner dolphins in Hawaii, I found myself moving to the right at the exact same moment that they did. There was no conscious decision on my part. I was just suddenly swimming in synchronicity with them as they swam closer. I felt a part of whatever telepathy passed among them. It was an unforgettable feeling.

Such moments—whether watching birds or dolphins or trees moving as one with the wind—have filled my life with a deeper sense of connection to all things. And to a belief that the seemingly impassive and distant cosmos all around us is in truth within us as well. These connections, visible and invisible, are interwoven throughout the universe. Life on Earth and across the galaxies is perfectly related. The moon affects the ocean tides, as well as our inner fluidity. We are moved in every moment by something greater than even our own imagination: murmuration sweeping through all our senses. The heartbeat of the universe.
*Photograph above by Nicole Pearlstein 
Starlings in flight: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4f_1_r80RY

The Wisdom of Slow

There is a profound blessing in aging: the pause for reflection. As I grow older, I find that I think more slowly, thoughts moving through at their own pace, unfolding, flowering. I often walk that way too, step by step, holding the awareness that I may never pass this way again: this moment, this experience, this perspective. I remind myself not to miss the subtleties, the hidden beauty, the wonder. Truthfully, it feels to me like the wisdom of a lifetime.

There is a great push to rush through life in the 21st century, as if we were running a race or trying to escape a predator. Many of us feel that pressure—violence and hatred at our doors, poverty and loss not far behind. Everything, particularly in the current political climate, has become a game of survival. Every film, TV show, and news story focuses on outrunning an enemy, surviving an apocalyptic situation. Death always threatening. Yet, life on Earth is so much more than this, if we pause and remember.

Sunrise and sunset each day. Seasonal changes. The love of family and friends. Since the beginning of time, these have always been present, just as there have always been fears and uncertainties. We came here to experience it all. This century may be particularly challenging, but this is the soulwork we signed up for. To remain calm and peaceful in the midst of chaos; loving and kind in the midst of conflict. Humans are evolving, slowly, often imperceptibly, but if we remember the long view we can take a slow deep breath and continue.

I keep coming back to slowness. It seems the key to so much. If you and I rush, we lose one another in the process. We forget who we are at the soul level and why we are here ultimately. When I listen to my friends, slowly and carefully, I really hear the voice of their inner being, what they want to express, to me and to the world. If I speak without rushing my thoughts, I express my heart’s essence. Together, we share our common humanity. When I walk slowly through a park or sanctuary, I fully experience all of Nature with each step and each breath. I hear birdsong and see every season’s flowering. This is the wonder of being alive, no matter what else is going on in the world.

As the days and years pass, I feel all of this more acutely. Yes, my soul is eternal, but this particular lifetime is unique, a gift not to be wasted or hurried through to an imaginary finish line. Every single moment holds within it a drop of infinity, the spirit of all that is, which I can only receive if I slow down and breathe it in with gratitude and appreciation. It is then that time falls away, and my soul and my humanity are One.

A Timeless Morning

We can find many entry points to Presence in the course of our lives. Presence: the experience of oneness with all things; timeless awareness; Spirit. It could arise unexpectedly in the midst of crisis or celebration, sound or silence, solitude or community. We each cross the threshold to Presence in our own way, in our own time. Yet, we all reach it at some point, and if we are fortunate, our hearts open wide enough to live there permanently.

For me, Nature is the eternal gateway to Presence in my life. In small glimpses or panoramic views. Green trees and blue skies outside my window. Distant snow-covered mountains seen from an airplane. Or, walking in a nature sanctuary as the seasons change throughout the year. I have often written about Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, which is my bird’s eye view to the natural world. And I mean that literally: the birds are always part of my walks there. But then, honestly, so is everything else: flowers, trees, ponds, hills, dells, butterfly gardens and native plantings. To me, it’s paradise on Earth. It renews my spirit and feeds my soul.

One morning this past August, I walked through Mt. Auburn’s gates and was immediately immersed in Presence. I could feel a powerful vibrancy of life everywhere I looked. The late summer flowers (hydrangea, Angelica gigas, Joe Pye weed, phlox, black-eyed susan) blooming in the Asa Gray Garden were stunning, and they were surrounded by dozens of bees dancing through the air, flying from one to another, collecting pollen. Tiger swallowtail and monarch butterflies floated by as well, as did dragonflies. I stood mesmerized by the beauty, the sun making everything around me sparkle with light.

As I walked farther, I heard familiar bird calls in the trees and bushes: catbird, white-breasted nuthatch, downy woodpecker, flicker, robin, cardinal. Bright yellow-and-black goldfinches were fleetingly visible, calling and swooping by like an avian Cirque du Soleil. The chirping and buzzing of crickets and locusts was also part of this symphony of natural sounds, as was the occasional scolding of a squirrel or chipmunk. At one point, I stopped and stood silently listening, eyes closed. When I did so, I realized that for more than an hour, I had been completely One with all I heard and saw, no separation; my mind had stepped aside entirely. Time was absent. It was a glorious feeling of sacred connection and complete alignment with the world around me and within me. Presence. Tears of gratitude and joy filled my eyes.

I have had similar moments before in Nature, but this particular expanse of timeless Presence seemed especially all-encompassing and beyond the realm of language. The closest I can come is to say that my individual “I” had disappeared into the eternal “I Am,” the center of all being in the cosmos. I was one with the music of the spheres as it played out everywhere around me. Later, I realized that from the soul’s view, this is what is occurring all the time for every one of us.