Days pass and the years vanish and we walk sightless among miracles….
and we will reach out for holiness and exclaim in wonder,
“How filled with awe is this place and we did not know it.”
Lines from a Jewish Prayer
This week I picked the first salad leaves from my tiny little bed in the garden. I gently plucked some mixed leaves from the different varieties and marvelled at the tiny miracles around me.
From little seeds I planted just six weeks ago, they have produced the most tasty salads for the table.
I stayed hunched down and looked closely at these and other little miracles around me. There are a few strawberries peeping, peas and beans are so tall now, they need to be staked for support.
And the metaphor for life was all around me.
We need to carve time
for dwelling in the quiet places,
to discover our own inner landscape
and the landscape of God.
New shoots, plants and weeds, competing for space in the same small garden. Some of the seeds I’ve sown much more advanced than others sown at the same time. Some in need of support, others quite strong in themselves. All needing attention to a greater or lesser degree.
And I think of the David Whyte poem….
Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to life
we have refused
again and again