Friday, March 21, 2008 at 2:02am
Splashing in the stream of life
Column: Our Place in the Universe
To create a place.
A mind like a river, and a heart like a well.
God in our waters creates rainbows, and sparkles, and sprays
of fat droplets of love.
You open my heart to tears. What a wonderful gift to give to me. You help me flow in the spring of life, and dive beneath the surface of reality. The rains of spring are upon me. Perhaps not as intense as the monsoons of India, but capable of washing away the most stubborn of stains. Your presence opens me to possibilities as I try to flow in an overflowing stream.
Things don't happen in our lives at convenient times; they happen at the best of times in the larger scheme of things. My boss just resigned, and, as a result, things at work are getting reorganized. Not knowing how, we are all somewhat anxiously awaiting the outcome. I'm trying not to flail my arms around too much, anticipating the coming flood.
Work had been coming along nicely. We had just finished our accreditation, for which I was the chair, and had passed with no stipulations and few recommendations. My next task was to organize and compose one of our objectives — creating benchmarks to document the success of the life of the child as dancer. What I was to build would become the basis for my doctoral dissertation.
In order to do that, it was imperative for all departments to work together — artistic, academic and residential. When my boss left, it created a vacuum that left people scrambling for footholds of influence and control. Suddenly I'm experiencing that we are not interested in sharing information, but spinning it.
How much do I work to repair the hole that was created with this vacuum, if that is at all possible, or if I have that ability, and how much do I let go and float downstream while trying not to splash too much water into the boat and sink myself? Am I even in a boat? When it is difficult to see one's self reflected in the waters because of the rapids, having someone's arms wrapped around you like a life jacket is surely a blessing.
This seems to be the sensation of those hot, summer friendships I spoke about in last week's column. Able to withstand the heat and drought of difficult times, these friends will just hold on to you, lending their support and unconditional love. They know what it's like to go through hard times themselves.
And God? I wrote a poem once about being depressed yet knowing that God was still with me because "after all, misery loves company!" Get the joke? Even in the midst of melancholy or the heart of darkness, that one stray beam of lightness can be found. I've heard quite a few people ask, how can God allow this suffering and destruction? In my heart I've always known that He is waiting, too, for the veil to lift, for His children to finally "get it."
Besides friends to stand by us, we have another source of inspiration and assistance that we often forget about. That is nature. Not only offering an oasis of peace, nature can bring a smile or even a guffaw when you least expect it. Often you will see a dog tear around the house in a frenzy of delight. My dog has taught our cat to do that too. On the other hand, she has taught him how to clean up after himself.
Both of them sense that now is an unsettling time for me, and are extra cuddly and kissy. In fact, today is that special kind of spring day, just the right temperature, with a hint of moisture in the air so that the ground smells of growth and goodness. The daffodils are in full bloom, which always seems to happen overnight, and the birds all know the Hallelujah chorus.
Life is good, so I'll just splash along in the stream of life and await the next adventure!
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. Having gotten her MA in earth literacy, she is now embarking on the further adventures of a Ph.D. in Wisdom Studies. She 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 2008 by Anne E. Ulvestad.
A mind like a river, and a heart like a well.
God in our waters creates rainbows, and sparkles, and sprays
of fat droplets of love.
You open my heart to tears. What a wonderful gift to give to me. You help me flow in the spring of life, and dive beneath the surface of reality. The rains of spring are upon me. Perhaps not as intense as the monsoons of India, but capable of washing away the most stubborn of stains. Your presence opens me to possibilities as I try to flow in an overflowing stream.
Things don't happen in our lives at convenient times; they happen at the best of times in the larger scheme of things. My boss just resigned, and, as a result, things at work are getting reorganized. Not knowing how, we are all somewhat anxiously awaiting the outcome. I'm trying not to flail my arms around too much, anticipating the coming flood.
Work had been coming along nicely. We had just finished our accreditation, for which I was the chair, and had passed with no stipulations and few recommendations. My next task was to organize and compose one of our objectives — creating benchmarks to document the success of the life of the child as dancer. What I was to build would become the basis for my doctoral dissertation.
In order to do that, it was imperative for all departments to work together — artistic, academic and residential. When my boss left, it created a vacuum that left people scrambling for footholds of influence and control. Suddenly I'm experiencing that we are not interested in sharing information, but spinning it.
How much do I work to repair the hole that was created with this vacuum, if that is at all possible, or if I have that ability, and how much do I let go and float downstream while trying not to splash too much water into the boat and sink myself? Am I even in a boat? When it is difficult to see one's self reflected in the waters because of the rapids, having someone's arms wrapped around you like a life jacket is surely a blessing.
This seems to be the sensation of those hot, summer friendships I spoke about in last week's column. Able to withstand the heat and drought of difficult times, these friends will just hold on to you, lending their support and unconditional love. They know what it's like to go through hard times themselves.
And God? I wrote a poem once about being depressed yet knowing that God was still with me because "after all, misery loves company!" Get the joke? Even in the midst of melancholy or the heart of darkness, that one stray beam of lightness can be found. I've heard quite a few people ask, how can God allow this suffering and destruction? In my heart I've always known that He is waiting, too, for the veil to lift, for His children to finally "get it."
Besides friends to stand by us, we have another source of inspiration and assistance that we often forget about. That is nature. Not only offering an oasis of peace, nature can bring a smile or even a guffaw when you least expect it. Often you will see a dog tear around the house in a frenzy of delight. My dog has taught our cat to do that too. On the other hand, she has taught him how to clean up after himself.
Both of them sense that now is an unsettling time for me, and are extra cuddly and kissy. In fact, today is that special kind of spring day, just the right temperature, with a hint of moisture in the air so that the ground smells of growth and goodness. The daffodils are in full bloom, which always seems to happen overnight, and the birds all know the Hallelujah chorus.
Life is good, so I'll just splash along in the stream of life and await the next adventure!
— — —
Anne E. Ulvestad is a free-lance writer residing in Maryland. Having gotten her MA in earth literacy, she is now embarking on the further adventures of a Ph.D. in Wisdom Studies. She 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 2008 by Anne E. Ulvestad.