I made a little poster out of these words that appealed to me.
That says exactly what I feel is my path for this present time.
If I ask myself what contribution I can make in these days of transition when the edifices of the past are crumbling and the future so scarily uncertain, I have to acknowledge the only things I can offer have this in common: they are all extremely small.
Every passing day brings urgent calls for money from people whose need is dire — those who have to watch their children starve, those who have no clean water (or even none), those unjustly imprisoned, those facing homelessness and destitution, refugees who have lost everything; also animals abandoned or tortured in vivisection laboratories and factory farms; and people trying to create a better future by regenerative farming and planting trees — all of them deserve funding, and what I have doesn't go very far at all.
When it comes to activism and political commitment, again I can offer so little. I get tired easily and quickly, I have low energy levels these days.
But I think it is possible to keep faith with the purposes of God simply by maintaining a quiet radiance.
I like this website about joy — they made a good video, which you come to if you scroll down the page.
And then I saw this on Facebook today —
— and my heart immediately acknowledged the connection between gratitude and joy.
In years past I was somewhat sceptical of the whole follow-your-bliss school of thought, but I have come to accept that happy people are good to be around, and it is extremely hard to make someone else happy if you are not happy yourself.
I also remember vividly how luminous and infectious was the joy I saw in others that first drew me to discover the presence of Jesus for myself.
So I think raising one's vibration and reaching for joy form an essential part of spiritual practice, and are a gift to others in days when so many are anxious and afraid.
Joy doesn't depend on money, status, power or success — you can just rootle about and find it like a pig looking for truffles, in the ordinary everyday circumstances of life.
But you can't be joyful if you don't honestly feel it — pretend joy has an uneasy artificiality in it; toothy grins and a bogus gleam in the eye are a poor substitute.Therefore, you have to look for sources of joy, in order to keep raising your own vibration so you have something to share. You have to forage for joy.
Giving this some thought, I reflected on what is a source of joy for me, and certainly colour is. I love colour. I like the sun on brick walls or filtering through stained glass. I like russet apples, and citrus fruits. I like the flames of a burning log on the hearth.
Today, just for a brief while, the setting sun slanted across beneath the brooding grey November clouds to shine on the chimneys of the house opposite —
— and that shone a light of joy into my heart.
I particularly enjoy the colours of my clothes and the blanket on my bed.
Yes Pen, I love colour too, particularly the morning light on stone walls, sun rays breaking through dark clouds, rainbows, mahogany conkers in green cases, beetroot, the texture and colours of my woolly hat...and on. Although they are seemingly so small, they all trace back to an overarching whole. I am grateful every day for the sunrise on my way to work - it's a great leveller and puts any (to be honest, privileged) grievances in their place. To inhale the fresh air and to watch the colour break out across the sky is heaven on earth.
ReplyDeleteGreat to read another post, thank you. Deb x
Waving to you, Deb! May you be happy, may you be protected, may you be contented, may you be peaceful. xx
ReplyDeleteI love colourful clothes. My favourite colour to wear is a sort of burgundy red. I have to be strict with myself or I would be dressed in it head to foot! So many women I come across wear mainly black, I suppose because they think it is slimming. I find black such a dreary colour-only worn when required for a funeral perhaps.
ReplyDeleteI like those burgundy reds, too — but there are two sorts. There's a rough, earthy, brown-red, and that's the colour I like, and then there's a cold, purplish red, and I don't like that one so much. But once it tips over into a raspberry sorbet kind of colour, I like it again. It's the purple red I'm not so keen on.
ReplyDeleteBlack? Yes — I think black can look very elegant and is good for formal occasions, but apart from some long-sleeved tops I wear under sweaters to keep me warm in winter, I don't have anything black.
I bought black clothes for my mother's funeral last year, but got rid of them all afterwards. If I go to another funeral, I think I'll just wear the clothes I have. I'm tired of formality, I'd rather things were just human.
There’s a beautiful Maple tree outside of my study window and I n October it’s leaves turn a brilliant orange. As I walked down the hallway toward my study, I silently chastised myself for leaving the lamp on in an empty study. However, as I stepped into the room, the light wasn’t on, but the sun was shining through the orange Maple leaves and the room was aglow in a warm orange light. It was a reminder of the beauty of God’s creation and the beautiful almost other worldly light was a wonderful blessing to me. We had rain and wind last night, so the leaves are gone, but Lord willingly the golden light will appear in my study next October.
ReplyDeleteOh, I know exactly what you mean about that light, Charleen! At certain times of the day in certain seasons of the year, the sun slants across through our front room window and fills the room with golden light just like lamplight — arrestingly beautiful — so lovely I just have to stand and look at it and call my hubby to come and see.
ReplyDelete"keep faith with the purposes of God simply by maintaining a quiet radiance"
ReplyDelete"foraging for joy"
Inspiring words!
I DO wear a lot of black and gray. Unapologetically.
But I love colors in their season...right now, autumn here with brilliant yellows, oranges, and reds.
And blue--ALWAYS in season☺️💙
Rudolf Steiner said that teenagers wear black a lot because they are passing through a time of change and exploration and intensity, so they hold all the colours inside them. Maybe it is the same with you. x
ReplyDelete