Making space for the mesmerizing glory of an old farm house or a chirping chickadee also makes space in my heart to hold the pain of a world I cannot fix and people whom I cannot save. Inviting joy and wonder into my life is not a betrayal of the suffering. Rather, it’s the life-giving inhale I need in order to exhale compassion and service.
We live in a noisy culture. It's little wonder that so many of us feel on edge and don't know where to place our attention, our vital life energy. And this is an essential question. As my spiritual director recently told me: "Love is infinite, but your energy is finite."
We can see thoughts as apparitions. They come and go but have no inherent substance. We are free to believe or disbelieve them, act on them or ignore them.
It seems that we as a species are in a "shoulder season", a time of transition between seasons. We vacillate between what we are becoming and the lesser angels of our past. We are both a fearful, bigoted, selfish lot, and a generous, welcoming, evolving people. And, of course, each of us individually is somewhere on that spectrum, often vacillating between the poles.