I want to know what is Possible! I want to practice over and
over again connecting deeply with my own sacred Self, and thus, with Others’. I
long to reside in a place of Being that affords me a view of humanity’s holy
possibility as a species, in harmony with all beings on this planet. It is not
a hierarchical movement upward but a humbling of self, and therefore it entails
getting nearer to the earth: the worms
and ants that dwell in my backyard soil. It calls me to become intimate with them.
Knowing Holy Possibility requires letting go of my conceptual ponderings; it is
not as if I could come to know and describe that which is Sacred with frail,
one-dimensional words.
I find the Sacred in the most unlikely places: the sweet musk of my dog’s fur; the
barely-perceptible fiber that is the first start of a root on the mint plant cutting;
the tears of apology one daughter offered moments before her mom’s final
breath; the rotting stench of humus in the mudflat; the child’s pose in yoga in
which belly and heart press down on the ground.
Several years ago, I accidently got locked inside a Catholic
church on the busy main street in Ushuaia, Argentina. I went in there, midday, seeking
a quiet meditation spot. Pretty much I figured nobody would know – or perhaps,
care – that I was not praying or making the sign of the Holy Cross; instead, I
sat meditating vipassana-style. The colored, crystalline images of the stained
glass windows floated in and out of my meditative stance. After an hour or so of
contemplative practice, I opened my eyes to a small group of church elders
holding a committee meeting in Spanish up near the altar. I slowly moved to the
main doors through which I had entered; but they were locked. No way out! I
found this quite humorous. Had I been
locked inside by a God who wanted me to find Holy Unity with the Sacred? Had I
not supplicated sufficiently; and had I supplicated sufficiently, would the
door have divinely unlocked itself? Instead, I stifled a giggle and my
questions as I wound my way through dark narrow hallways seeking exit from the holy
sanctuary. A kind older church secretary found me in the labyrinthine
infrastructure of church officialdom and took me by the hand; she laughingly
walked me to a different set of doors leading back outside. Now this was Holy Unity – two strangers,
women, in a place of worship, silently creeping in unlit places, voices
giggling with a brief but powerfully-shared secret.
There is the ever-present possibility for the Sacred to
manifest if only we open wholeheartedly to what is actually before us. It is
already there; to connect with Holiness requires simplicity, not complexity. Awareness.
Humility. These are Everything.
All blog photographs taken by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted.
