[ the sight of a miracle, dept. ]

What is it that delights in small things, in the mysteries that present themselves when we are deeply, vulnerably, appreciative? When we’re startled by the suddenness of beauty, intelligence, fact and miracle, known and unknown? – all of which combine to explode the mind’s walling limitations, the heart’s superficial sentimentalities, to shatter the ‘need to believe’ that binds as it confines; to expand perceptions intuitively, infinitely, following the subtle scent of love.
I like to call it “Creation” or perhaps “Life”, but the words seem too glib, too facile to touch upon the mystery of a butterfly’s wing with words about words.
When we pause to innocently look in and look out, to invite grace, we simply see what is, as is. We abandon the conflicts of choice and we live and flow in harmonious being. In being all and nothing; empty of self, full of everything. Sounds like love, and it is. We’re startled by reality and the beauty of it all yes 🙂

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