Autumn is surely here – beautiful turning leaves and pumpkins at the farmer’s market tell me it’s true. This week the weather has grown colder, especially at night. We have begun to light the woodstove in the evenings, and sit silently in front of it, mesmerized by the glowing flames. The orange and golden flicker, the warmth of the fire, and the gentle sound of the air swooshing around within the stove make me feel so relaxed. As I quiet myself, and peer into the flames, I become rather lost to time and circumstance. The flames become a doorway to me, as if to another dimension. What is through and beyond this door? What energy moves within the flames? What causes them to dance so beautifully?
In a moment when I am lost to distraction, when I am relaxed and open, I feel the presence of this graceful and silent energy moving through random doorways within my sphere. This presence gently holds me, comfortably cradling me with such tenderness. Like the flames this energy also lovingly carries me, beyond time and space, beyond person, place, or thing. For a moment, there is no separation between me and the flame – I am warm, glowing, dancing with gentle swooshing breezes.
There are so many open doorways such as this – where I am able to peer deeply through and extend myself beyond visual boundaries. I move through a doorway looking into the river at sunrise, through again when I peer into a child’s eyes. Looking up to a mass of red and golden leaves on the sugar maple waving gently in the wind transports me through the door. Watching the raindrops make circles in the birdbath or feeling the hand of my beloved move into mine can do the same. My kitten’s purring always lets the sounds of the universe through a door, the night sky door opens me to endless galaxies. Foggy mornings with pungent mossy woodland fragrances pull me through again and again. On high mountain trails I can see through and beyond the door into forever. Through open doors I am the sunrise, the child, the leaves, raindrops, the beloved, and the kitten’s purr. I am the night sky, and foggy morning, and the forever.
What are your open doors?
7 comments:
Coming here. Coming here is one of my doors. I think of "grace notes", the tiny spaces beween notes that give pace to a musical piece. I find grace notes here.
Reading your list reveals to me that I have too few open doors. That stings, thank you.
Dear Twyla,
Thank you for your kind reflection.
After writing this, I began thinking about difficult times in my life, and how these, too, were open doors for me. It seems when I am "laid bare," feeling wounded and raw and as though I have nothing left to give, invariably a door opens, and I feel those grace notes you speak of. In a tiny pause, something changes, and I am again embraced with loving kindness. In this moment, I am nobody, just empty, and very open and receptive to simply be held by this light. Perhaps it is because in those moments, I finaly get out of my own way.
My doors are an embrace from a friend, a quiet walk in nature, meditation by Lectio Divina or in Creation when I look at all around me and feel blessed that God loved me this much, sharing a cup of hot chocolate, bonfires, and laughter of a child.
"In this moment, I am nobody, just empty, and very open and receptive to simply be held by this light."
In this moment, if you are nobody, just empty, just openness and receptivity, what is being held by the light?
What holds the light? What is the container for this brightness?
Music opens me. as does anything beautiful, including beautiful people.
funny how the anonymous commenter sees only the words, not their doors, their openness.
you have also reminded me of how closed i am often, feeling that the quiet, confused voice has little chance to sing, little chance to feel the universal light. i haven't been meditating for weeks, and i feel it.
Such beautiful writing M-
Please allow me to post this on my blog.
More to come regarding this post.
I love fall.
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