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Posted: November 1st, 2007 at 2:04am By: Anne E. Ulvestad
"Oh Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the things Thy hands have made ... then sings my soul ... " Did you ever have a "Wow!" experience — one that left you speechless, breathless, wondering, "How in the world?" And did you ever wonder if that experience had a deeper meaning or significance in your life? Was it a Gift, and, if so, Who was the Giver? Who was the Source of this and all wonder?
And upon feeling a Source, did you ever wonder if that experience was meant for you and you alone — that it was a personal experience and the Giver was a Someone who held you close? At that moment, did you feel you meant Something to Someone? Then did you forget it? Did you continue on with your life as if it had never happened?
And if you did not forget, if the moment stayed with you, for hours, for days, did that moment of wonder lead to a lightness of step, a smile for a stranger, a helping hand when none was requested? Did that moment of amazement lead to your own amazing works — of art, of poetry, of passion? Or maybe, that one moment made such a difference in your life that you were healed. Maybe your response was a gratefulness and appreciation of life, of second chances, of the ability to re-create or re-story yourself.
In doing that, in re-creating and re-story-ing yourself, that moment became a part of you and was no longer a concept or an idea. The Giver of the Gift of Awe was speaking directly to you, in all of your humbleness, preoccupation and, yes, even conceit. This moment of radical amazement was offered, often giving you no chance to refuse, since you were overpowered by the Awe. You realized that the ground you were now standing on was Holy Ground. The Source of that Awe had become vulnerable before you, giving you the right to claim Him, as He had claimed you.
Awakening to a moment of awesome wonder opens our very soul, overwhelming our senses, pushing us into the arms of the Beloved, permitting us to partake in a sacred act of creativity. For this moment changes us. Even if we have forgotten, the memory is still with us, and can be exposed at a moment's notice, when the air is rich with the smell of autumn, or the light is dancing happily on the water, or our beloved's touch is soft and sensual.
When we remember, we remember the Holy, make it our own, and emulate it. When we are conscious of this sacred inspiration, we ourselves become sacred, for we mirror the Beloved in thought, word and deed. This personal glimpse into the act of loving originality affects our way of loving in return, and our loving in response.
How, then, do we claim and keep our original nature? Our religion must become a personal act of intent. If we have no religion, our philosophy must become a way of life. If we have difficulties and distractions, those too must be examined with a critical eye, in a manner that will allow us to follow the evolutionary process of the rest of creation — that is, to grow, to adapt, to change, to live for a purpose that is interconnected with the whole.
In that intimate moment of connection we will be changed. In that secret moment of amazement we will be transformed, embodying our true self, for the example is before us in all its majesty, and we will have become one with it. And yet the mystery of it all, the unknowingness, can be echoed in the question, "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands" (Isaiah 49:15-16).
There is no room here for analysis or intellect, no more would there be explanation for a mother willingly sacrificing all for her child. Only the relationship of parent and child can elucidate the radical amazement that is possible with the reality of every breath we take, especially in the prospect of those in-breaths of awesome wonder upon seeing life's daily miracles.
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
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"Oh Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the things Thy hands have made ... then sings my soul ... " Did you ever have a "Wow!" experience — one that left you speechless, breathless, wondering, "How in the world?" And did you ever wonder if that experience had a deeper meaning or significance in your life? Was it a Gift, and, if so, Who was the Giver? Who was the Source of this and all wonder?
And upon feeling a Source, did you ever wonder if that experience was meant for you and you alone — that it was a personal experience and the Giver was a Someone who held you close? At that moment, did you feel you meant Something to Someone? Then did you forget it? Did you continue on with your life as if it had never happened?
And if you did not forget, if the moment stayed with you, for hours, for days, did that moment of wonder lead to a lightness of step, a smile for a stranger, a helping hand when none was requested? Did that moment of amazement lead to your own amazing works — of art, of poetry, of passion? Or maybe, that one moment made such a difference in your life that you were healed. Maybe your response was a gratefulness and appreciation of life, of second chances, of the ability to re-create or re-story yourself.
In doing that, in re-creating and re-story-ing yourself, that moment became a part of you and was no longer a concept or an idea. The Giver of the Gift of Awe was speaking directly to you, in all of your humbleness, preoccupation and, yes, even conceit. This moment of radical amazement was offered, often giving you no chance to refuse, since you were overpowered by the Awe. You realized that the ground you were now standing on was Holy Ground. The Source of that Awe had become vulnerable before you, giving you the right to claim Him, as He had claimed you.
Awakening to a moment of awesome wonder opens our very soul, overwhelming our senses, pushing us into the arms of the Beloved, permitting us to partake in a sacred act of creativity. For this moment changes us. Even if we have forgotten, the memory is still with us, and can be exposed at a moment's notice, when the air is rich with the smell of autumn, or the light is dancing happily on the water, or our beloved's touch is soft and sensual.
When we remember, we remember the Holy, make it our own, and emulate it. When we are conscious of this sacred inspiration, we ourselves become sacred, for we mirror the Beloved in thought, word and deed. This personal glimpse into the act of loving originality affects our way of loving in return, and our loving in response.
How, then, do we claim and keep our original nature? Our religion must become a personal act of intent. If we have no religion, our philosophy must become a way of life. If we have difficulties and distractions, those too must be examined with a critical eye, in a manner that will allow us to follow the evolutionary process of the rest of creation — that is, to grow, to adapt, to change, to live for a purpose that is interconnected with the whole.
In that intimate moment of connection we will be changed. In that secret moment of amazement we will be transformed, embodying our true self, for the example is before us in all its majesty, and we will have become one with it. And yet the mystery of it all, the unknowingness, can be echoed in the question, "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands" (Isaiah 49:15-16).
There is no room here for analysis or intellect, no more would there be explanation for a mother willingly sacrificing all for her child. Only the relationship of parent and child can elucidate the radical amazement that is possible with the reality of every breath we take, especially in the prospect of those in-breaths of awesome wonder upon seeing life's daily miracles.
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. She has her masters in earth literacy, and is available for public lectures and group presentations and rituals on Spirituality and the Environment. Anne can be reached at {email anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com}anne@ourplaceintheuniverse.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
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