“The real trick to life is not to be in the know, but to be in the mystery.”-Fred Alan Wolf
It is overcast this morning. Grey clouds hang low. Pregnant. Electrically charged ions full-bodied. Suspended. Yearning for release.
A search for ‘how clouds form’ reveals, science does not have all the answers. Each suspended droplet is imbued with mystery.
The river runs high this morning. Jade green flowing into gun metal grey. There is no mystery to its swollen flow. Spring run-off has begun in the mountains spanning the western horizon their ridges separating earth from sky like the back of a monolithic dragon sleeping. Snow melts along its spine. Rivulets race down its sides to meet up with a multitude of brooks and streams coursing down mountainsides, leaping and frothing at the chance to join the river flowing eastward in the valleys far below.
Plump green leaves shiver in the morning breeze stirring the branches of the trees lining the river. A squirrel traverses through the ever-thickening canopy. No flying this morning. Just thoughtful navigation from limb to limb.
It is raining now. The clouds release their bounty in a gentle patter. The leaves dance.
I stand on the deck, beneath the portico above the door. The air smells fresh. Alive.
I breathe deeply. Bring my awareness into the mystery of this moment. Feel the air against my skin.
I smile.
I had planned on writing about baking and creating food art with foccacia. About friends visiting on the wine deck. An afternoon spent sipping chilled wine in the warm sunlight. Savouring friendship. New and old.
And then, I visited David Kanigan at Live & Learn. Listened to the morning meditation he offered up. Alison Balsom playing Satie’s Gymnopédie on the trumpet. As Lori, one of his commenters described it, “Lovely limpid, languid tune….”
In the plaintiff call of the trumpet, in the echoing eeriness of Satie’s resonances, I fell into grace. Effortless. Enveloping. Grace.
It is there I find myself now. Listening to the sound of rain falling gently. The honking of two geese flying overhead. Notes of a piano softly thrumming in the background.
My plans undone. I come undone in this moment.
Yesterday is past. Today holds promise. Tomorrow is a mystery.
I release yesterday with a silent prayer of gratitude. It falls softly, gently into memory’s welcoming bed, a wildflower garden of tranquil respite.
I breathe into the promise of today and whisper a prayer of gratitude for this moment. Each second imbued with possibility. Its gifts still a mystery.
I sense tomorrow’s mystery flowing deep beneath the surface of this moment in which I sit watching the river flow.
Time enough for tomorrow.
Today, right now, the music of life stirs me.
I rise up and begin to move. Slowly. Gently. My body flows, stretches, undulates. In and out and all around, captive to the waves of sound, ebbing and flowing, pushing and pulling, plumping up the molecules of air dancing all around me with the melodious notes of Satie. Arvo Pärt. Laurence Ipsum.
Mystery dances in the air around me.
Magic shimmers on the leaves unfolding on the branches outside my window.
Miracles glitter on the raindrops falling. Lightly. Gently. Softly.
Life is a mystery calling me to rise up and dance. In the sunlight and shadows. Beneath rain clouds hanging low, and raindrops falling all around. In golden times and darkened moments.
In it all.
Life is a mystery calling me to dance. With Love. Gratitude. Forgiveness. Grace.
And so, I dance.
I invite you to dance with me. I invite you to savour the mystery, cherish the memories and let them go in this moment so that you can rise up and dance, free and untethered, twirling and spinning about, weaving and dipping and jiving with your body unbounded in the joy erupting within the beauty of this moment right now.
Namaste.
_________________________
Thank you David for the Morning Meditation and the link to Rob at The Hammock Papers. Thank you Rob for that quote. It is sublime.
And thank you to those who create music and words and images and ideas that stir the senses and free the mind to dance amidst the beauty of the mystery of life.
Dare Boldly 
I love Satie …. I often listen to this piece
during my morning writing – and sometimes all morning.
My morning is rainy-chilly too … fantastic.
I like ‘In the early morning rain …’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pqttl9aWm0
and Jose’s Rain too: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUDPWiv28MI
Let it rain!
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Yummy. thank you for reminding me of Felician’s Rain. Pouring possibilities pulse with every drop of rain calling.
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Your writing is beautifully poetic. When you wrote “I breathed deeply” I breathed with you ❤️
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Thank you Adriana! What a lovely compliment. ❤ And thank you for breathing with me. I like to imagine if we can all breathe together, together we can create a world of peace. ❤
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Ah I’d see the rain, have a big sigh and go about inside stuff. The miracle stuff would be lost on me although I would acknowledge that the rain is good for the hay, the pasture land and the crops (of all varieties). Then I would go see or bake or even clean.
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I love your groundedness Bernie. And, I am in awe of how much you get done! Whenever I read your blogposts, I see you as a wonderful blend of practical, whimsical and creative. It’s a lovely gift. ❤
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“I sense tomorrow’s mystery flowing deep beneath the surface of this moment in which I sit watching the river flow.”…….just so beautiful!
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Thank you! ❤
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Was that not a sublime piece on DK’s blog this morning? Who knew the trumpet could be used for meditative purposes? Gosh. And now I’m listening to Mark’s submission (I love Satie, too) and Arvo Pärt! Spiegel Im Spiegel is what I turn on for my 10 minutes of stop and be.
I miss having a roof over my balcony. I used to sit outside and listen to the rain whenever I could. It is definitely a one-day project of mine.
Even if you didn’t write about the focaccia, it has reminded me that I’ve been dying to try to make one of these edible tableaux.
Have a fabulous day, Louise.
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As I type this morning I am listening to Once Upon a Time in Paris — sublimely meditative.
I love your phrase -Stop and Be- so suited to those moments during the day when I simply stop whatever I’m doing and get present with where I’m at and the world around me. Thanks for that!
The ‘edible tableaux’ – so much prettier than ‘food art’ — and when you do create yours, you’ll see how it so deserves a pretty name! They are fun and easy and fulfilling and always end up with oo’s and ah’s! I’ve created several now and love doing it, as well as eating it. I find the veggies add a beautiful taste. And, if you don’t consume the whole thing fresh, it makes the most amazing croutons! 🙂
Have a beautiful day – we’ve got more rain – it’s quite lovely!
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Lovely… So much beautiful music out there.
I’m very much a Stop and Be kinda gal. Glad you like!
It does sound rather artsy 😉. The only reason I have hesitated is because I know I’ll be the one who eats most of it! Oh but hey… Croutons can be kept longer. Hmmm.
It’s a beautiful sunshiny day here. My pool is almost ready so, looking forward to that!
Have a beautiful wet sunshiny day!
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It rained so hard today that the gutters in the streets filled up and I saw a crow taking a feather bath in the puddle! 🙂
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Wow! I never think of crow’s as taking baths! Makes sense. And how delightful.
I do love that sound of pounding rain. Ours right now is just soft and kind of mystical.
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It is nice to be able to sit outside undercover and watch the rain
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That it truly is Joanne!
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