Thursday, August 20, 2009
It's All About the Light
The other day I woke up feeling the need to connect with people on a one-to-one basis. I wanted to feel connected to individuals with whom I could establish a rapport through language, through conversation. It didn't have to have strong content or deep meaning, just the sense of connecting in a peaceful, but tangible way. I sent this desire out to The Universe.
About two hours later a new acquaintance called and asked me over to her place for lunch. I knew from visiting with her previously that she had a bountiful garden. She said, "We'll go out and pick our lunch fresh from the garden." She didn't have to ask twice. She gave me directions and away I went.
The drive took me down a long dirt road where I crossed some railroad tracks and had directions to 'turn right at the lake.' As I got a bit closer to her place, the light coming through the trees and across the road took on a quality that made me feel as though I had stepped through a portal in time. It suddenly felt exactly like so many days of my youth, which I remember often as having that same quality of light. I felt transported through time to a place I recall as having a divine sense of freedom; a place where the cares of life had not yet taken root and anything was possible.
When I arrived, her dog Phoenix greeted me, and then she stepped around the corner of the house verifying I was where I was supposed to be. She lives on one of these small beautiful lakes hidden in this neck of the woods. It was her family's summer home when she was growing up. It still had that quality to it, with the addition of being a place where a person is obviously living a life of the mind, from the heart, and as an extension of the outdoors. There was almost no distinction between the two.
We went into her gardens, basket in hand, and picked peas, beans, carrots, and corn, all scrumptiously fresh. There's nothing like a carrot right from the garden, the dirt still clinging to it. I recalled many days when I was very young and would eat them with the dirt barely brushed off. No time for washing. There is a clarity to a garden-fresh carrot that speaks to me from what seems long ago and far away, but really is right now, in this spectacularly fine moment. It was a lovely lunch with a nice visit getting to know each other better and glimpsing insights into each others lives, past and present.
But, the fun was just beginning. She has a canoe.
Next thing I know, we are slipping the canoe into the water. I'm in the back, paddle in hand, feeling like life was suddenly all about just going forward into beauty. I was seeing a quality of light that transcends time in a simple human experience. We went around the lake noticing the different greens, the few homes scattered around it, the small island her son likes to camp on, as she gave me a brief history of her time there. I let my hand drag through the water, as I have always loved doing while paddling a canoe. It felt absolutely delicious.
From the lake in front of her place I could see her gardens, the lushness of the tangled vines containing the bounty of her loving care; a care that comes from knowing that what you nurture comes back to nurture you, nourishing your body and your soul.
When we docked later, walking up to put the paddles and life vests away, I sensed a quality to life itself that reminded me of the freedom that comes from letting go of the future, living in the now, allowing life to unfold moment by divine moment.
As I drove away later, that quality of light stayed with me and remained for the rest of the day. Time is a tricky litle thing. I got a glimpse into it that day, a glimpse of the absence of it, actually. It's not about going forward, or going backward, or passing into any where. It's really all about the Light.