Rapt in reverence. Let the world touch you
By: Marjory Mejia
We often travel in spirals, arriving at the space where we got started. I have been consciously making space for joy and magic in my life. Magic happens when we listen deeply with all our heart. Listening, seeing, welcoming, receiving creates a beautiful state of receptivity. Such was the flavor of my last trip to NYC, overcome by a sense of enchantment, wonder and awe.
Einstein was right on when he said:
“The most beautiful and most profound emotion we can experience is the sensation of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead. To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms – this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true religiousness.”
The mystical resides in the every day. They are not separate. The mundane infused with the sacred. After all, the sacred is just life experienced with a heightened state of awareness. You can actually see the sacred in a pile of dog poop. I wrote an essay on the bathroom as sacred space, subverting a spirituality that is disembodied. (You may subscribe to my list and get it as a gift if you wish)
I experienced NYC, Manhattan to be more precise, as a breathing living being. An animal. Divine in its frenzy, permeability, and kindness. I walked the streets of the big apple fast, with ardor and passion, like a puma traversing the land. I let the life of this land touch me.
Some of my most treasured memories are the conversations with kindred souls. Engaging, creative, expressive, delirious for truth. My first bites were delicious, nourishing, invigorating. NYC, the big apple, is full of heart and magic.
One night, I got on the train after a day of adventures, when a man entered and sat in front of me. He looked like he had worked the earth. He had soil on his skin and clothes. I am calling it soil rather than dirt. I have never liked how we call soil dirt. Our soil is sacred. Anyways, He was holding two daffodil flowers in his hand. His gaze, his gestures, his whole demeanor was breathing devotion. He was making sure these two flowers were all right, checking their roots still contained in earth. You could feel the love emanating from the exchange as I believe the flowers were feeling the love he was radiating.
This gentle and sacred man inspired me to show the same love and devotion for everything that I touch with my hands. To be grateful for these hands that can experience the sacred so intimately. Tears trickled down my face. Heart burst open on a train. No, you don’t have to go on retreat, you don’t have to climb a mountain, you don’t have to follow a formula that promises guaranteed results. All you have to do is open your heart and let the alchemy of life do its magic.
I had just attended a live conversation by Deepak Chopra and Vandana Shiva on the importance of preserving our seeds and cultivating our soil from and for life, not war. How we feed and replenish the land and our body reflects how we feed our soul. Or not. And so I pondered amazed at the immediacy of this message and the love flowing so strong that it could barely be contained in my heart. I simply marveled at the interconnectedness, serendipity, synchronicity and magic. Flow in its most natural and raw motion.
Those precious flowers and the love for all that the earth gives birth to..
Views from multiple levels, shifting perspectives, enriching vision.
Mesmerized by the spiraling forces expressed in this beautiful sculpture. Yin and Yang.
I was able to witness that magical moment of blossoming. The first blooms of spring. Fresh. Courageous. Victorious. In love with life.
I found a corner, a piece of haven in Central Park. Two wonderful little structures framing a gateway. Do you remember why you arrived here? The portal opens when you remember the gift you are ready to receive..
These were dancing trees, swaying their branches in joy.
I could have sat in this spot for hours under the magnolia tree in full bloom. Loved the warm golden light at this time of the day.
Rapt in reverence. Just let the world touch you.
Let love burn through everything else.
And never underestimate the power of water.
“Poetry is the liquid voice that can wear through stone.”
― Adrienne Rich
April is poetry month. Rest in peace Adrienne Rich.
In the spirit of water and love born from the earth,