Light Connections 4
Art by Norman E. Masters

I am where I am today. There is goodness simply in being.

Beyond my rain-spattered window, the sun is shining out there on frolicking, giggling waves. This moment's wind is pulling them off to their left, raising a nor'east spume, but they still progress toward shore.

I cannot choose what is; but I can choose my focus. I can focus on the rain spatters on the window, debris of the nor'easter that has been here but is now past -- and metaphor for my poundage -- or I can focus on the sun-kissed waves who flirt with the wind, but follow their hearts to the shore -- a metaphor for my chi in transaction with the Chi of the world. I am moving in the right direction. It's fun to be drawn off course a bit by passing winds. It turns the march into a dance. It's beautiful to see the vagaries of the Now and the continuities of the Forever at play with one another. Relax, Merry. Enjoy!

The flag out there, tied to the pole as it is, can only follow today's wind with all its yearning. The waves, while likewise saluting the wind, are free to continue their journey inward.

Which is more permanent? It depends on how I focus. Each transient wave breaks in just seconds, giving way to the next. The flag continues to fly. Yet the waves go on for eons, while the flag marks but an era. Not even! There is one further down the street which the wind has so ripped away that the stripes no longer extend past the blue field of stars. No things last forever, not even the waves; but the Spirit of All lasts forever.

And where am I in this picture? So long as I tie myself to the pole of linear thinking -- be it via the scales or via dissecting my metaphors -- I am like the flag. So long as I enact my intentions -- whether to write or to become healthy -- I am like the waves, ongoing even though blown away by momentary distractions. Insofar as I can surrender to the Wisdom of the Universe, I am the eternal daughter of Spirit. The miracle is that I can encompass all three at once. One does not stop the others from being.

Love,
Merry Hall

Feb. 10, 2001