Here’s the invitation.
To sit down. To allow our wandering hearts a moment of quiet.
And a hint: quiet does not mean we stop breathing, or children stop fidgeting, or the events of our lives don’t rise in our minds.
It means we open ourselves, we open our hearts.
It is letting go of our certainties, and allowing what is, to be.
Here are some things the wise have found in those moments of opened heart. Perhaps, if you look, you will notice them, as well.
One is the beauty of this moment. Here, as we sit together. This beat of a heart instance is the fulfillment of history, of everything that has happened from the bursting of stars, to continents rising from the sea and falling back, to every Spring come forth, every crocus and green bud reaching out from the winter, the great play of life and death and rebirth, all of these things, and so many more, led to this moment.
And, in this pause, in this instance of openness we might just find refuge from the storm.
For a moment.
To encounter the mysteries of love.
And, later, in good time, it is what we’ve noticed, seen and felt that will carry us forward.
Forward to the good work.
The dance of being and life.
The hand that reaches out.
The songs of justice.
In this moment.