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sacred threads ~ wisdom in the present

There is a beautiful story by Leo Tolstoy that further illustrates the sublime practice of the present moment, “The Emperor’s Three Questions.”  This story is replete with teachings about recognizing and serving the Divine in each other as well as practicing the present moment to experience the Presence.  In Tolstoy’s story, the emperor sent out the decree that he would richly reward the one who answered these questions to his satisfaction;

1.  When is the best time to do each thing?

2.  Who are the most important people to work with?

3.  What is the most important thing to do at all times?

Many, many people tried and failed to answer these seemingly simple questions.  The emperor set off in search of the answers himself.  He was told of a holy man who lived as a hermit and decided to find the hermit.  Surely, such a man would be able to answer the questions.

When he finally reached the holy man, the emperor found him stooped, working in his garden.  The hermit listened attentively to his questions, patted the emperor on the shoulder, and continued digging.  The emperor, although perplexed by the hermit’s indifference to him, offered to help the old man.  The hermit rested while the emperor dug.  Many hours passed this way.

After some time, a wounded man approached.  The emperor helped him, and dressed his wounds.  In the morning, the wounded man regained consciousness and asked for water, which the emperor promptly fetched from the stream.

To the surprise of the emperor, the wounded man asked for the emperor’s forgiveness.  The wounded man explained that he was a sworn enemy of the emperor who had killed his brother and seized his property.  He had set off to kill the emperor but was caught by the emperor’s attendants who wounded him.  After hearing the wounded man’s story, the emperor and the wounded man reconciled and the emperor ordered his attendants to return the man safely to his home.

The emperor approached the hermit, again asked his questions.  The hermit smiled telling the emperor that his questions had already been answered.

The most important time was the time spent digging in the garden.  For had the emperor not stopped and helped the old man by digging in the garden, he would have been attacked.

The most important person was the hermit and the most important pursuit was to help the hermit.  Later, the most important time was the time spent helping the wounded man.

The most important person was of course the wounded man.

And the most important pursuit was dressing his wounds, for had he not done that the emperor would never have had the chance to reconcile with the man.

The old holy man told the emperor, “Remember that there is only one important time and that is now.  The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion.  The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future.  The most important pursuit is making that person, the one standing at your side, happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.” (From Leo Tolstoy’s short story The Three Questions)

It seems that in order to discover the wisdom hidden in such a story (as well as the stories of our own lives) and drink the nectarean wisdom infused throughout such tales, we must slow down and contemplate the story.

The obvious message for being present and giving oneself fully to each unfolding moment offers an enticing entry into such contemplation.  Yet, simply glancing at the notion that the “pursuit of life” is solely to bring happiness to the person at our side can raise the hackles of most of us who have been immersed in the pop psychology literature of the last couple of decades.

When I first read the story I felt myself bristle at the notion of trying to make another happy, after all, we are each responsible for ourselves, and our state of mind.  However, upon considering how I would be with the person at my side if I knew her to be God, if he revealed himself to me as the essence of Divine Consciousness.  Might then my pursuit indeed be to bring the Lord happiness?  Only with a quiet mind have I glimpse the purity of such a pursuit.  Again, I’m reminded of the value of a daily meditation practice.

Each one of us is faced with the challenge to slow down the rushing activity of the mind and the body and taste the nectar of the moments that make up daily life.  For only in the present moment does Love, does the Greatest Mystery, reveal Itself.  Only in the present can we glimpse Grace sneaking in.

As I mentioned in a previous Sacred Threads post, I sometimes feel as though I am playing a great game of hide and seek with God.  If I let myself be still enough even in the midst of activity, I spot God and find mySelf at Home, in Heaven, in my heart.  Enough of these moments strung together are like perfect pearls joining to form an exquisitely simple yet beautifully elegant strand of jeweled moments that make up the garland of my life.

sacred threads ~ nature’s doorway

Charleston on the Battery

Charleston on the Battery

If’ you’ve been reading for a while, you know by now that I find comfort in exploring my spirituality from multiple vantage points including diving into esoteric spiritual texts from a variety of cultures and human experience.  One of these texts is the Vijnana Bhairava. This book is a collection of dharanas, centering techniques.  These techniques not only center a seeker, but open her to experiencing the wonder of the Divine Presence.  The English Translation of this text has a captivating title, “The Yoga of Delight, Wonder, and Astonishment.”

One of my favorite centering techniques from this text is the practice of gazing, without blinking, at the sky.  “If one makes himself thoroughly immobile beholds the pure (cloudless) sky with fixed eyes, at that very moment, O goddess, he will acquire the nature of Bhairava (Supreme Consciousness).”

One day, after a long weekend of tiring work, a friend of mine and I took a day of rest on the beach.  After a long walk, we lay side by side gazing at the sky, our bodies still and minds quiet.  We breathed deeply and took in the great expanse above us.  After some time, I asked her if she could see the thousands of tiny dots of light that seemed to be dancing before my eyes.  She did.  Together, we gazed at the sky in wonder.  I felt myself as made of the same particles of light that danced before me.  I experienced a dissolving of the illusion that my friend and I were somehow different than the sand, the ocean, and the sky.  I was filled with a sense of quiet wonder and complete love.

As each object of Nature carries the energy of God, the Presence of the Divine, it follows that each object of Nature can then carry the wisdom of the Divine.  However, to experience that recognition I must stop, but for a moment, to consider it to be a manifestation of God.  I pause.  And, in that pause, Nature seems to open a doorway to reveal some Truth.

Even the path of the sun in the sky, lends itself to revealing the mysterious Presence of God in its very predictability.  Further contemplating the sun, I experience its generosity in the sensation of warmth on my skin or taste a bite of fruit in remembrance of its rays.  The ways in which I can contemplate Nature and find solace in it is truly endless.

In fact, images of Nature, simply gazing at Nature can naturally return me to a state of peace.  Such images are abundant, infinite and easily accessible.  For instance, walking outside and gazing up at the sky, or simply sitting where I am and remembering the vastness of the sky can lure me to the experience of knowing I am in the Presence of God.

It’s comforting to me to know I’m not alone in my quest to deepen my relationship to Spirit and to use any doorway that takes me there.  Nature is a broad doorway.  The Native American reverence for Nature is well known and continues to gain respect as many look to deepen their understanding of and appreciation of Nature as well as challenge previously held beliefs and assumptions.

Consider the wisdom in this statement from the Mohawk Nation (This quote is from an old journal and I can’t find the source.  If anyone knows the source, please share), “We are shown that our life exists with the tree life, that our well being depends on the well-being of the vegetable life, that we are close relatives of the four-legged beings.  In our ways, spiritual consciousness is the highest form of politics . . . We believe that all living things are spiritual beings.  Spirits can be expressed as energy forms manifested in matter.  A blade of grass is an energy form manifested in matter – grass matter.  The spirit of the grass is that unseen force which produces the species of grass, and it is manifest to us in the form of real grass.”

Any aspect of Nature, from a single acorn, to the changing seasons can teach me more of the Truth of who I am.  What if I listen more deeply, and let God be God in any and all manifestations before me?  Might then I glimpse the beauty and peace of the Eternal in the Present moment?

sacred threads ~ searching for faith


“The trees and rocks will teach you that which you cannot hear from masters.”

~ St. Bernard of Clairvaux

For many seekers, contemplating Nature opens the door to a mystical life of untold beauty and spiritual bounty. What secrets might we learn in the contemplation of Nature?  What comfort might we find in its embrace?  Across traditions spiritual aspirants are encouraged to have faith in God’s love and grace.  Yet, in my life there are times when practical faith continues to elude me.  I suspect I’m not alone.  And if I take St. Bernard’s statement literally and look to nature as one of God’s teachers, I can contemplate its teaching and deepen my experience of faith.

For a moment today,  I gazed at a tree and considered how its roots reach deep into the dark rich earth.  I reflected on how the earth so generously provides a steady flow of nutrients and minerals so that the tree may continue to grow, reaching towards the sun.  All the while, the sun provides needed rays of light for growth.  And the sky opens itself to rain on the tree, giving it precious water.

Then I imagined myself as a tree with roots growing from my tailbone and feet.  I imagined the roots reaching through the floor beneath me and carving their way through concrete obstacles to reach the rich dark earth.  I imagined feeling the steady flow of the earth’s abundant strength and energy flowing into me and mingling with ‘my’ energy.

I then imagined a spinning orb of light blazing with the light of the sun, shining on me and through me, mingling with the energy of the earth, giving me everything that I need.  Faith.  From such a vantage point, might you too develop the faith of a tree, the confidence of its faith in the earth and the sun?  Recognizing the pure beauty of a tree’s simple faith, what else might the tree teach you and me?

What a sublime practice faith can become, if I remember to continually reminding myself, this too is God.  This too is God!  This too is God!  The teaching then comes alive and joy becomes mine for I can never be separate from God.  No matter what happens, no matter where I am, no matter who I’m with, I’m never without God, the God of my understanding.

Then the play continues.  My ego captures my attention with the pulls of attraction and aversion, and I swirl in the belief that I am separate.  I find myself gravitating towards a particular experience while avoiding another.  When I can’t avoid a circumstance that I would like very much to avoid, when I get caught up in how I would prefer things to be different, therein lies an invitation.

There, right there, is the invitation to loosen my grip on my ego and reach for Truth.  Instead, more often than I would like, I let myself get caught in the throes of the ego and I lose my equanimity, my sublime understanding that indeed I can never be separate from my Lord.

All this because I deny the Presence of the Lord, hidden in the fabric of the present moment.  What a game of Hide and Seek!  Fortunately, I can always begin again and remember this ‘too is God.’  Fortunately, my soul continues to yearn for the Truth and God hears my call.  The wind blows.  A leaf falls and my attention rests on a tree.