Open The Window In The Center Of Your Chest,
And Let The Spirits Fly In And Out.
I step outside into a bracing morning. The day is almost too blue; the air is so clear that is seems alive. Far above me, the clouds march in celestial cadence across the sky. Years ago I used to drive a cab for a living. There was a blind woman I used to pick up. She was taciturn, proper, almost British in her sense of propriety and reserve. And though she seldom talked, we gradually became friends. One day I asked her what one thing she would wish to see if, for only one minute, she could have the gift of sight. She smiled and thought a moment. Then, she said, ‘Clouds.’ The answer surprised me. ‘Why clouds?’ I asked. ‘Because I can’t imagine them,’ she said. ‘People have tried to explain them to me. They tell me they are like cotton. They spray whipped cream in my hand. They move my fingers over paintings of skies ad let me feel the shapes of clouds painted on canvas. But I am still no closer to an understanding.’ As I drove along I pondered her words. I, who saw clearly, spent each day wishing for some distant object- a place, a person, some prize of life I hoped to win. But one who valued sight the most- one to whom it was denied- knew that the greatest gift her eyesight could bestow was before me, unnoticed and unhallowed, at that very moment. ‘Clouds.’ Of course. What else in this great universe so eludes description, so fills the spirit with wonder? What else floats gossamer and ethereal above our lives, never touching down but always present with us, a reminder of the majesty of an unseen God? As a child we are alive to their magic. They are God’s sketchbook, the measure of our capacity to dream. But as we grow, they fall victim to numbing familiarity. Their poetry and majesty, thought still alive in our hearts, is easily overlooked, easily ignored. ‘Now, let me ask you,’ she was saying. ‘What is a cloud like?’ I returned from my reverie. The traffic was churning angrily on the rush-hour streets. Far above, the clouds were moving slowly, like horses, like carriages, like elephants holding each other’s tails. ‘They’re like God’s dreams,’ I said. ‘Thank you,’ she responded. She did not speak again. But her still, small smile filled the cab with the eloquence of peace…….Kent Nerburn
there is so much talk of being in the moment, finding presence, and somehow stepping away from time’s deep grip….but how?…..it is not so easy, no magic clouds to rest in awhile….maybe it is so simple we miss it…..like the magician’s slight of hand…..like clouds that change while you’re watching the sky and somehow you’ve missed the storm rolling in….maybe it is simply about honoring our humanness…..
You are the light of the world, but you do not know it. You do not know it because you have not looked deeply enough into your own heart. Take a moment to look. Take a moment to see who you really are. Do not take your cues from the world anymore. Take your cues from the light that dances in your heart. Then your eyes will sparkle when others lose hope. Then, when skies are dark in the east, you will point to the light that comes flooding through the dark clouds, in the western sky. And when people turn around, they’ll see something new and exciting in the eastern sky, a column of many colored lights arching up through the blue-black clouds. Sudden and luminous. Because you see the light in yourself, light comes to the world. Because you feel joy in this moment, the warmth in your heart is given wings. There is no one who is not touched by your love, your caring, your attention. The rainbow will not be here tomorrow, or even in fifteen minutes. The beauty in this world will go unnoticed if it is not embraced right now. Nothing is more important than opening your eyes and opening your heart right now…..Paul Ferrini