By: Anne E. Ulvestad

Visit ANNE's Profile

Thursday, July 13, 2006 at 1:01am

Chaotic transitions punctuated by grace

Column: Our Place in the Universe
Some days getting up is such a wonderful thing. I can hear the birds singing even before I get out of bed. I'm greeted by an exuberant little puppy whose joy is to follow me out into the yard and nip at my feet as I walk the labyrinth. That is, until he finds a leaf to nibble or a bird to run after, at which point he is off and running, ears flopping, tail wagging. I have to smile.

Other days I bear a heavier weight, although the sun may be just as bright, the birds just as joyful, and the puppy just as full of life and love for all he meets. I can't say that it's just one thing or another — like rising gas prices, the war in Iraq, or global warming. I've tried to buy a hybrid car and found I still couldn't afford it. I have a nephew in Baghdad who is there for a third tour. Two people I work with had their apartments condemned because of the bizarre flooding we've had recently. It's more than all of the above.

We're in a time of transition, and as such, limits are being pushed, the pressure to change is palpable. In "World As Lover, World As Self" Joanna Macy writes of the "Great Turning" as not an escape from suffering, but an embrace of the suffering to embody wholeness and healing. Previously we have viewed perfection as either unattainable or else a place of isolated, sterile non-attachment.

However, remembering and dealing with pain leads us to take risks of compassion. Facing our greed, fear and loneliness in order to immerse ourselves in life, opens the way for connections to appear. "We already . . . belong to each other, for that is the nature of life."

This is the reason I begin my day with the labyrinth, this small wheel representing the turnings of the hours, the seasons, the planets, my life—all life. It helps me face the wounds of my heart, the wounds of the world and reminds me that I am not alone, despite the fact that many are still blind to the suffering. Walking it echoes the rhythm of the spheres, the beat of the tides, the pounding of the blood circulating in my body.

When we go back to our roots, to our connection with the Source, we discover the principles of our own creation and belonging. They reflect the principles from which the very universe was created. One such principle is what Brian Swimme calls that of "allurement"— the simple attraction of one for another with the purpose of creating something more diversified and whole. We have the ability, as the "awareness" of the universe, to reflect this purposeful creativity and live for the sake of others.

The essence of allurement — the out-breathing of the Big Bang, the in-breathing of gravity — wraps us in an ever-expanding spiral of relational giving and receiving. This is the moment when we are touched and embraced by the very universe itself — a moment of grace — one we can capture every day.

Connecting to this larger vision, which reflects the healing, nurturing and forgiveness of Creation, often requires time alone to get in touch with our own pain as well as our own beauty. Simply being alone with nature can move us from self-judgment, self-consciousness or self-criticism to self-awareness. Finding our own beauty in the silence can allow old and engrained thought patterns to float to the surface, or drop away releasing the pain. Being cradled in the lap of an old oak tree or in the arms of an ocean wave offers an unconditional love that touches the very purpose of our being.

Thich Nhat Hanh in his book "Living Buddha, Living Christ" talks about this experience being gained through learning to breathe:

"The first practice I learned as a novice monk was to breathe in and out consciously, to touch each breath with my mindfulness, identifying the in-breath as in-breath and the out-breath as out-breath. When you practice this way, your mind and body come into alignment, your wandering thoughts come to a stop, and you are at your best . . . When you enter deeply into this moment, you see the nature of reality, and this insight liberates you from suffering and confusion."

Whatever discipline you use, the result creates a mindfulness, and a sensitivity to the natural order of creation. It puts us in touch with the beauty of the moment where just our being brings goodness to the reality of life. However, we often begin this task, or this day, by throwing ourselves into the fray without being grounded first.

Before an outward breath of action can be taken, an inward breath of intention must be made. After finding a peace and a purpose we can confront the reality of life's wounds — both our own as well as those of the Earth. This is when a moment of choice is placed before us. Or is it that we have no choice any longer? We've used up our choices and now stand in a moment of grace.

— — —

Anne E. Ulvestad is a freelance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © copyright 2006 by Anne E. Ulvestad

— — —

ReligionAndSpirituality.com is a big tent for all expressions

of faith and spirituality, neither excluding nor favoring any.

All opinions expressed belong to the writer alone, and are

not necessarily shared by ReligionAndSpirituality.com.