How can this be the same sky only minutes apart?
At seven this morning, I stepped out of my car, looked up at the sky, and captured the moon smiling at me as if it were the Cheshire cat grinning in Wonderland. I felt my spirit soar at the gift of the smile from up above.
I went up to the third floor and looked out the window of my colleague across the hall. Again, I grabbed my memory-keeper camera and asked if I could take a picture from his window. Of course, I had opened his window and was focusing on the scene long before he had a chance to grant permission. I was in awe of how the clouds seemed to transform the sun as if I were viewing its image in the ripples of the wavy water.
Yay! I had already collected two pictures for my nightly blog, and it was only 7:10. All of the early morning stressors had already melted away. As I checked the pictures, I noticed that the sky was completely transformed--the moon resided in a bright, blue sky while the sun rose over a dusky, darker horizon.
Tonight I witnessed another sacred moment in nature; it is etched in my internal memory, but I was unable to capture it to share.
As I pulled into my driveway, I saw the resident deer family bedded down again near our driveway. They jumped to their feet. I stopped the car.
The twins, who are almost as big as their mother, nuzzled their way under her belly in order to nurse. She turned her head toward me, then at them, then at the far woods, then back at me as her hind legs twitched. She was quickly processing her options. On one hand, she was willing to nurse them, but on the other hand, they had no awareness that she was concerned for their safety as I sat there in my minivan, with my high beams on, gawking at them. She clearly felt torn between meeting their needs and keeping them safe. Finally, she maneuvered her hooves to spring off of the ground over them, knowing that they would follow her away from the human.
So when I begin and end my day with such dualities, I recognize that there must be a kernel to be popped open. I must confess that I've uncovered more questions than answers. How can the sky be such a bright blue on one side of a building? How can the sky be such a mystical, watercolor of dusky colors on the other side of the building at the same time? How can the mama deer be so torn between safety and the maternal instinct to nurture her 'tween deer? Why has the Universe invited me to observe these seemingly contradictions?
Perhaps, the gift is in simply noticing the beauty that surrounds me without judgment. My expectations tell me that the moon should be in a dark sky--not a bright, blue sky with white, cumulus clouds. I assume that a sunrise is filling the sky with bright light, dispelling the darkness of night--not rising in the midst of the darkness. I imagine that fawns nurse in the safety of the woods--not in the near a high-traffic driveway. I presume that the maternal instinct ought to be free of ambiguity.
Instead, when I view each apparent incongruity through my heart's eyes, the sacredness of each moment blossoms. The moon and the sun do co-exist, sharing the sky. It's a gift to witness the beauty of each within moments. Tonight, it was an honor to behold the intimate connection between the 'tween deer and their mama. (After all, I can relate all too well to the contradictions of motherhood. Would that perhaps be a mirror for me?)
In each moment, the Universe blessed me with an opportunity to witness something sacred. I could not have orchestrated these moments, and my snapshots only partly capture the scene. There's an energy in witnessing these divine moments, which cannot be fully captured. Mother Nature creates the magical rainbows; we can merely bear witness, grateful for such blessings.
Today, I embrace the sacredness within each moment, accepting it as a gift.
Namaste,
I went up to the third floor and looked out the window of my colleague across the hall. Again, I grabbed my memory-keeper camera and asked if I could take a picture from his window. Of course, I had opened his window and was focusing on the scene long before he had a chance to grant permission. I was in awe of how the clouds seemed to transform the sun as if I were viewing its image in the ripples of the wavy water.
Yay! I had already collected two pictures for my nightly blog, and it was only 7:10. All of the early morning stressors had already melted away. As I checked the pictures, I noticed that the sky was completely transformed--the moon resided in a bright, blue sky while the sun rose over a dusky, darker horizon.
Tonight I witnessed another sacred moment in nature; it is etched in my internal memory, but I was unable to capture it to share.
As I pulled into my driveway, I saw the resident deer family bedded down again near our driveway. They jumped to their feet. I stopped the car.
The twins, who are almost as big as their mother, nuzzled their way under her belly in order to nurse. She turned her head toward me, then at them, then at the far woods, then back at me as her hind legs twitched. She was quickly processing her options. On one hand, she was willing to nurse them, but on the other hand, they had no awareness that she was concerned for their safety as I sat there in my minivan, with my high beams on, gawking at them. She clearly felt torn between meeting their needs and keeping them safe. Finally, she maneuvered her hooves to spring off of the ground over them, knowing that they would follow her away from the human.
So when I begin and end my day with such dualities, I recognize that there must be a kernel to be popped open. I must confess that I've uncovered more questions than answers. How can the sky be such a bright blue on one side of a building? How can the sky be such a mystical, watercolor of dusky colors on the other side of the building at the same time? How can the mama deer be so torn between safety and the maternal instinct to nurture her 'tween deer? Why has the Universe invited me to observe these seemingly contradictions?
Perhaps, the gift is in simply noticing the beauty that surrounds me without judgment. My expectations tell me that the moon should be in a dark sky--not a bright, blue sky with white, cumulus clouds. I assume that a sunrise is filling the sky with bright light, dispelling the darkness of night--not rising in the midst of the darkness. I imagine that fawns nurse in the safety of the woods--not in the near a high-traffic driveway. I presume that the maternal instinct ought to be free of ambiguity.
Instead, when I view each apparent incongruity through my heart's eyes, the sacredness of each moment blossoms. The moon and the sun do co-exist, sharing the sky. It's a gift to witness the beauty of each within moments. Tonight, it was an honor to behold the intimate connection between the 'tween deer and their mama. (After all, I can relate all too well to the contradictions of motherhood. Would that perhaps be a mirror for me?)
In each moment, the Universe blessed me with an opportunity to witness something sacred. I could not have orchestrated these moments, and my snapshots only partly capture the scene. There's an energy in witnessing these divine moments, which cannot be fully captured. Mother Nature creates the magical rainbows; we can merely bear witness, grateful for such blessings.
Today, I embrace the sacredness within each moment, accepting it as a gift.
Namaste,
L
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