Happy Easter

"For me, religion is our human response to the dual reality of being alive and having to die," says Forrest Church. Today in particular, there are plenty of people who point to the pagan roots of Easter, ignoring the idea that pagan practices were also religious practices. 

This morning at sunrise I went outside. Birds were loud, the air chill-sweet. Many daffodils opened this past week, crocus flowers still bloom wide, and snowdrops (the flower) are not quite done. How could I avoid thoughts of Easter sunrise services from my youth? Gathering in firstlight, singing in the dawn, sometimes a trumpeter accompanying us, making a joyful noise. 

This morning I smiled again, thinking of the notice in Friday's paper of sunrise services to be held at 7:30. Now, there's a non-farm version of sunrise. 

Today is the on-paper, official day Bernie retires. My farm-boy husband is still in bed, no worshiper of sunrise. And that's just fine.

Because the"right" time, the specific Earth day time, isn't the point, is it? We gather together in smallest and larger groups as our human response to the return of Springtime, new life, in the absolute, constantly illustrated reality of death. For today, we are alive. Let's notice, and make the experience vibrant. Happy Easter.

Being within the physical, embodied, incarnate I am: 
grounded (i.e.actually held to the earth by the cuddle of gravity);
centered (sensate and aware of that behind-the-bellybutton 
                  middle-of-the-gut place);
balanced (not to be taken for granted);
whole (contained within my own, specific skin).

My body carries my life. That grounded, centered, balanced, whole body. All thought, emotion, intuition, reason, metaphor expands from there. And all is well.

Consider the skin-contained limits on your limitless self.

Trustworthy reflection

We see our own faces only in reflection. In a mirror. In the eyes and faces of others we live with or work with or meet along the path.

I also see myself reflected in the face of the natural world. Even the sky shows me enough. There I am held in ordinary presence. I, too, am present and allowed. I am not gently held and lovingly affirmed. I am also not greeted with irony, cynicism or rejection. I am simply present with the sky in all its changing, steady ways. I am neither insignificant nor overly significant. I am simply allowed and accepted.

So gazing at the natural world I have come to trust Earth's reliable sequences and consequences.

"Against unimaginable odds, we have been given something that we didn’t deserve at all, the gift of life, with death as our birthright." Forrest Church

Now. Here. This.

Age chisels away all but the most prominent features. Anita Shreve

Yes, I have noticed that as we age we become more ourselves. Can we ever see our own most prominent features? What, where, who is the mirror? How do we perceive?

Yesterday at sunrise I saw a white gull flying high in the salmon colored light, the gull's color softened. This morning the storm clouds mute all the colors. I always feel morning's blessing no matter the color of light. Horses march as a parade along the fence and then uphill to their shelter. All the high branches sway in the wind. 

Now. Here. This.  Fr. Greg Boyle