The Gift of Now

My sister (the bicycle lady) responded to my two last posts. I think the essence of her comments is: you have to work with what you have. If you don’t have the floating lift of joy, you have to power on anyway. If you’re not feeling completely holy about your family, you still need them, and they need you, and it is a comfort.

I think she’s right. She brings up a question that must trouble all seekers of a spiritual view: what to do with the messiness of now? So you know Spirit is the only thing that sustains - how does that wash the dishes and pay the bills? How does it intervene in an awkward conversation? How does it impart grace?

Here is what I think: although I may say that spiritual sustenance is not found in material things, it’s always true that spiritual sustenance is found right here. In every single right here, in the opportunity of every moment. Whatever I’m seeing right here and now, therefore, has the ability to provide me with deep spiritual sustenance. A kitchen full of dirty dishes? Check. There’s the symphony of sound, the clanks and pings, or there’s the music I put on to accompany my work, or simply the opportunity to move in grace. My son? Check. I can be delighted by Spirit revealing itself to me in his unique being.

I have an image of what this looks like. It’s of a bright light released, rising up from a person (like plasma in my picture), an unbelievable illumination. In my vision, every individual in every moment has the ability to be that node of illumination, that place of opening. The opening has the feeling of incredible richness. I have examples in mind: the way my father-in-law can, in a certain moment, feel deeply loved, uniquely appreciated, so his spirit floods with a sense of comfort and gratitude for the simple care provided him. That comfort is the light-release of that moment, similar to the looks of joy on the faces of the dying men suddenly cared for by Mother Teresa’s ministries, in the movie I saw about her. Another example is the spark between two young people (or people of any age) awaking the possibility of love.

Here’s the big secret: love is not proprietary. We may think it’s only released when all the stars are aligned and all the circumstances are perfect. But any moment, any person can release it. This is the source of spiritual sustenance - the release of those plasma flows of love. And though I make it sound exotic, it is something I have known throughout my life - in my love, as a teenager, of little kids; in my love of my own kids; in my attraction to music and moments of beauty. I’m just learning it’s more universal than I thought.

So for me there’s no asceticism, no denial of anything present. My practice instead is to look at each moment and ask to see the gift of now - the light-release that lifts me up in joy.