An Island Meditation: Nov 2013

A young family walks on the remains of an old mossing road along the rugged cape of the Island. The red earth beside their feet is slowly giving way to new territory; to sea, to sand, to rocky shore, to expansive sky. 

It is a gentle, achingly beautiful scene. 

They stop and sit on the now fading grass, the broken edge where land meets the wondrous sky.  Courageously, lovingly, together they sit peacefully with the difficult knowledge that the very ground they sit upon will soon give way.

Trusting in the shared goodness of their own hearts they have the wisdom to realize, wonderfully realize, the utter import of drinking in the view from the vantage point available to them; the difficult reality of their here and now. 

And so, instead of falling off the edge of much that is so large and challenging, they choose to fall into it; to quietly sit and touch the  small, soft clusters of what remains of late summer's delicate beauty, pearly everlasting, recognizing that there is strength in togetherness.

Reaching out they pick a bayberry leaf, knowing that in gently holding it in the warmth of the palm of their hands, it will release its own sweet fragrance. 

They know that they too are being held and guided.

They cast a sweeping glance out over a windswept sea on the seeming eve of wintertime because they know that this can do a soul good. They rest in the fragile knowledge that by themselves they can never take in the enormity of it all, nor alone do they have to. Watching in wonder they see bright white gannets plummet intentionally to frigid depths no one wants to enter in mid autumn. They smile and laugh as the gannets rise back up wet with splendor from the belly of the giving sea. They know well that it is in giving of them-selves that they receive and that it takes opening their hearts wider than they ever thought possible to fully receive the greatest gifts.

Quietly they remember the gentle caress of summertime waves lapping on little bare toes on wet sand. Good things do truly come in small packages. 

Bravely, so bravely, they wonder the why's and how's of life that sometimes are too big to wonder and still somehow they manage to keep breathing deeply. They know the answer to much lies in trusting, letting be, and letting go into love's mysterious truths. 

Their graceful ability to negotiate the precipice is amazingly evident in the way they walk their given path. (Unlike most, they don't turn their faces from the north wind for long.) In sharing with deep honesty and creating their own footpath, they share the beauty of a vantage point that no one wants to ever have to look from.

Then standing, they lovingly hold hands, and cradling the tiny ones, walk on. 

A few purple asters cling to the cape. The sting of salt has taken its toll on the evergreens huddling there but they still stand together and face the full force of the seaborne wind. The sand below the cape is littered with driftwood and wonderful, yet to be discovered gems. The sun catches, glowing for an instant, on the crests of waves that too quickly roll back into the blue-grey deep of the sea. The horizon, unflinching, remains the same.

Steadfast in the knowledge that our edges are only edges until we reach them...they recognize that each new moment can be a place to begin again from. They know intuitively that as long as they have hearts of love, goodness will guide them on their journey into the unknown. 

 Sweet and wondrous gifts to the world they are!

Thank you to them for their powerful example of vulnerability and strength in their time of need. 

Photo by Lucas MacCormack