saturday | october 9 | 2010

on mindfulness.

a professor once posited to me: suppose

our world were in total darkness, and

one day we found out that there was to be

one sunrise and one sunset. that's all.

he suggested that people would flock

to each coast, filling the seashore with bodies

for as many miles as exist to the north and south.

they gather here, he says, to watch this

spectacular event - this once-in-a-lifetime.

yet we inhabit a perpetual kaleidoscope,

but we have grown too busy to watch,

too bored to fill seashores with bodies

for as many miles as exist to the north and south.

daily, we miss these little big mysteries that

led g.k. chesterton to profess a childlike God whose

eye of wonder watches every sunrise and sunset, exclaiming,

"again! again! do it again!"

indeed, our Father is younger than we.

my friends, practice noticing. take time

and enjoy this earthly cornucopia of experience.

smell the air after the world is showered by rain;

rise with the sun, and join the daily hours of the birds;

taste the complexity of your next glass of wine,

and marvel, dear friends. be astounded.

refuse to grow old and pray that the God of our fathers

will draw you close to him, that in the future

you may grow ever more young.