As the gorgeous, blessed leaves, make their way onto the ground to (joyfully) become compost for new life, I find myself slowing, turning inward, for the silent nourishment I so love in the holy darkness of this time of year – the darkness that envelops me in my morning prayers and meditations. It reminds me that all is well for all eternity is right there sitting with me. I need nothing more.
And I am reminded of a beautiful story from the Tao…
A traveler through the mountains came upon an elderly gentleman who was busy planting a tiny almond tree. Knowing that almond trees take many years to mature, he commented to the man, “It seems odd that a man of your advanced age would plant such a slow-growing tree!” The old man replied, “I like to live my life based on two principles: One is that I will live forever. The other is that this is my last day.”
In the holy darkness, I am happy knowing I will live forever – in each one of those sweet present moments – for I am finite and infinite, human and divine. The tiny almond tree reminds me that my only job is to relax and be so that God may do. It reminds me that I need not effort for the hand of God is busy sculpting me in blessed ways I know not. It reminds me to breathe, more slowly, so I may remember that I am breathed, tendered and lovingly held by the holy One, right there, in the sweet darkness.
May we each become more like the tiny almond tree…and live forever…today.