I do love those "mountaintop" spiritual moments, the ones that shift everything, and you are never the same. I am blessed to have experienced many of them. I will always be glad for these times.
I think for me, though, one thing that got lost in the shuffle of every day life for a few years there was finding the sacred in the every day.
For much too long I moved far too quickly, filling my time with too much. What did setting personal boundaries look like? How do you navigate the waters of crafting a life that honors your own true rhythms and ways, and the sacred that is all around us and within us?
I am learning this skill set and it’s lessons very late, I will be 54 years old next month. In refusing these lessons for so many years, my body has now conspired to force the lessons to happen. The last few months have been profoundly difficult physically, but I can only be thankful. There are so many insights that I have right now that I never would’ve had if I did not have these past few months of challenges.
Physical pain and fatigue, when it reaches a certain level, can definitely change your perspective in many ways.
So for me, yes, those mountaintop experiences are amazing. I’m quite grateful for them.
But lately, I am far more focused on the beauty in every day moments.
Preparing a meal for loved ones, and then sitting around the table laughing and sharing it. Between work shifts and arthritis I haven’t cooked very often in the past few years. And I’m physically not able to fully be in charge of all of our meals anymore. But lately I do often prepare a meal on Sundays and it feels sooooo good to enjoy sharing this again!
Coming home from work Monday through Thursday and having a hot meal waiting for me, complete with everything cut up for me. The warm food prepared by Rob exactly the way I love and need it is one of my favorite things at the end of the work day.
Watching Christmas shows with my husband.
Having a challenging day, and experiencing the grace of best friends encouragement.
Drinking coffee, and writing in my journal in the morning.
Meditation.
Writing letters, reading.
Allowing time for naps.
Finding endless small ways to show love, such as picking up an item from the store that someone needs, making something special for somebody, or forwarding a cool article or song to a loved one that you know they’ll love.
"Living room talk." I absolutely love sitting in my cozy warm living room at the end of the day, and catching up with family. I love hearing how everyone’s day went, and just experiencing the beauty and joy of those interactions.
Finding delight in the dozens of things that your family does for you every day automatically, that you don’t even think of sometimes. I notice those things now.
The habits and traditions that are the earmarks of life with family and friends. The amazing delight in repeating these things. The light that goes on in your loved one eyes, the smile that graces your friends face when you repeat these things together, time after time. This is when hearts beat as one and love flows the most freely.
Sitting with clients doing a reading for them, and the joy as they connect with Spirit and get exactly what they need. I am so happy to step aside and watch as this little miracle happens. I love this work!
I had a friend who was in my life for a couple of years, and then when she broke up with a dear friend, she moved away. I haven’t seen her for a few years, since she moved. She had the most exquisite gift of hospitality, welcoming, and of warmth. I have rarely seen another person who could prepare a simple snack and a cup of tea and sit around the table with you, and make such an atmosphere of comfort, welcoming, and warmth. The simple, open way that she presented herself, her home, and the way she welcomed people was a rare gift. I have, since that time, endeavored to take a page from Eileen‘s book.
I think of her sometimes as I find the earmarks of joy in the mundane things in every day life, because she had such a gift for that. It reminds me of growing up in the 1970s when time to stop, and interact over tea and to have conversation and connect was a more common occurrence. There was space in life for it.
I’m glad that mountaintop experiences happen. But for me, the past few months, sacredness, the Divine, holiness… It is in the small incredibly beautiful details of every day life. It is a complete shift from the striving, scrapping, trying so hard energy that I have been in for so long that said that I had to keep trying to get "there" wherever the heck that was.
I understand that a lot of that comes from being an arthritis warrior. My dad was. I am. I think sometimes that both he and I have had a habit of fighting so hard that we haven’t always known when to stop pushing. I’m learning now, when to stop, and it’s good.
I have come to believe that tomorrow is built on the exquisite love and wonder of the moment we are standing in. I have learned that the Divine is in the every day. And I have come to be able to see sacredness in holiness everywhere around me. So, yeah. It isn’t any fun occupying this body at the present moment. But in her rebellion over the past few months, my body has given me a gift that I frankly would never have slowed down long enough to see, if she didn’t do what she did. So I can only be strangely, unexpectedly, completely grateful.
