perfect unity

"Live in each season as it passes—breath
the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit,
& resign yourself to the influences of
each. Let them be your only diet
drink & botanical medicines. In August
live on berries, not dried meats as if
you were on shipboard making your
way through a waste ocean, or in
a northern desert. Be blown on by
all the winds. Open all your pores
& bathe in all the tides of nature
in all her streams & oceans at all
seasons."

Henry D. Thoreau



So to be faithful to St. John of the Cross, I’ve been sitting here for about an hour in the dark and listened to the rain through an open window in an attempt to focus myself long enough to be in a place that would even closely resemble contemplative prayer, though poorly. And I realize that this must be what it is to be taking in each season. This is what it means to breathe the air and resign myself to things and recognize they are what they are. To listen to the sounds of creation and feel the breeze and smell the rain only to be jarred out thought by a few of the loudest dogs I’ve ever heard.

But I’ve always been a “by the book” type of gal. I’ve planned my days to the minute. I’ve got things mapped out for weeks to come. My soul longs to throw it all to the wind and to make my way through this season feasting on what’s available. To allow myself to be directed by the wind and the streams. Not to neglect structure, for I’m sure I would breakdown and collapse in on myself, but to bask in all of the goodness that is this season – right now. To allow myself to be spiritually, emotionally and physically adrift. Not in a way that is flighty, but intentional, as not to fly through my day like so many calculated minutes, so much ignoring of moments.

And so I’ll listen to the rain. I’ll wait in the dark until that moment where I feel like my soul is in perfect union and rest there.