Strands

All around me are strands of the eternal. These are not something waiting for me in the future, but are all around me right now. They envelope me and welcome me as soon as my mind pushes back the blankets of sleep. I become aware that I am brushing up against the strands of the eternal as I touch the cold granite of my bathroom counter. They shape the tiniest crevices of my hands as I push against the carpet, lying flat and face-down on the floor.

I too easily forget what it is to experience this magical aspect of my world. I try to remind myself of it and feel it when I walk through the long wet grass of my garden and acknowledge plants one by one, group by greening group.

I know that strands of the eternal have woven the multi-layered, mis-matched fabric of my life. I can still feel the soft embrace of the velvet forest as it has repeatedly invited me into a world just beyond what my eyes and skin could perceive. I welcome the memory of those times when the eternal strands were so self-revealing that I could easily take hold of them. I knew this was where I belonged.

I might too easily forget the experience of eternal strands that were woven into the moments I spent with those individuals I have opened my heart to love. First loves were an explore, and thereafter I gradually learned that this embracing of the eternal strands was to become a daily way of living. I keep the memory alive by daily again acknowledging all who have allowed me to become interwoven into the fabric of their lives as they too explored their own eternal strands.

I am aware that all around me there are hearts reluctant to surrender to the reckless open-heartedness required to enjoy the deep joy of these eternal strands. They know there is little safety in being in love with the world, being in love with other individuals with abandon. Falling into the realm of the eternal is like stepping from an open door of an airplane, believing somehow I will be able to fly.

This seems to happen all the time to me, and I am no where close to sorting it out. I just know that in spite of many experiences that feel like reaching into thin air, there are also moments when I clearly brush up against the eternal strands. This happens anew again and again. I experience how the eternal strands yield to my touch, and I am reminded of the world to which I belong.