Today is a day of doing things. I have much to do, and it is not just an assortment of things chosen arbitrarily. I have shoveling and clearing work to do before Sunday night's predicted rain storm soaks into all existing snow and freezes it in place until April. I have windows to put plastic over so that once the rain comes, I can hole up inside the garage at this house where I have a little work and remove the windows and get to work stripping and replacing all of the glazing compound. That's good work to do indoors, and I have a couple of heaters to make it comfy in there.
Oh, and I have to do laundry. Because I need socks.
And I kind of want to rearrange the bedroom. Maybe move things around so that I can take better advantage of the natural light from the windows. The sunrise could come streaming in one window if the bed's headboard were not smack up against it. Hmm. Might not be a bad idea to vacuum under the bed and behind some stuff while I'm at it.
So I am not inclined right now to write beautiful things about god and nature and the world and my cat. I am hunkered down over my coffee cup wishing my right forearm and hand were not all pins-and-needles tingly because it would be a lot easier to type if they weren't. That's leftover from yesterday's shoveling effort. What I thought would be a one- or two-hour job turned into a six- or eight-hour job. Ouch.
The Deepak Chopra book is more interesting than I had anticipated. He starts out appealing to my intellect and acknowledging that not everybody believes in god. That's good. So many books about god seem to start from the premise that the reader already has a god, knows him well and now wants to be his best friend. This is not like that, and I am glad.
The sun is coming up just like it did yesterday, cold and bright as it inches up over the horizon. There is no cat here this morning to teach me how to worship properly. He is still cocooned in blankets in some other quiet part of the house. Sausage links are beginning to sizzle on the stove. They went into the pan as frozen little ice-tubes and honestly, I had forgotten that they were even there until I began to smell them cooking. They're on low, so I only have to get up occasionally and shake the pan. They'll be done in a while.
The cat is no under the table, staring intently at the bookshelf, apparently contemplating the single hardcover publishing success of Paula Poundstone. Odd behavior for a religious teacher if you ask me.
I can hear the furnace doing its thing this morning, and the sausages sizzling and smelling wonderful. I wonder if that is where my exploration is meant to take me today: to senses other than my sight. Although the snow is sparkly like it was yesterday, but we've been there, and done that, so perhaps not. I don't know that I have new words to describe the same scene outside my window.
Chopra talks about the search for god being universal, that all cultures and all peoples do it. He also says that the search goes in phases, with people searching god first in the heavens, then in nature, and then in all things, and then they begin to search inside themselves for god. I think that might be where I am.
I don't think I am going to find god outside. I don't see that I will ever have his mailing address or that I will have to go to a certain geographic place to be with the divine. My goal, I think, is to get in touch with god and to be able to be in touch with him (using male pronouns for efficiency, not gender specificity, so just relax, OK?) every day. I would like to have my conversations with god to not be so awkward, so strained. I want to know that I carry some measure of the divine within me and that it is easily accessible to me and to others.
That's a tall order, I know. And I don't think the search is going to be a linear one, as in I learn lesson A, then proceed to lesson B, then C, all in order. I think this is more along the lines of I learn A, but then explore G for a while, look at Z, but decide that maybe 17 is more the line of learning I want to follow at the moment. This is not going to be an orderly thing.
I don't think knowing god can be a straight-line journey. I just don't see that. Everyone I know who has gone through seminary seems to indicate that there are as many ways to know god as there are people who seek that knowledge, and each has his or her own path to get there.
Normally I tend to be a learner who likes linear stuff. I want to learn the easy, basic stuff and then the more difficult stuff in order. But this does not seem to be the kind of thing that lends itself well to that kind of style. There is a lot to learn, and many teachers and resources available to me every day. I guess my prayer for today is that I be open to learn what each thing and each person has to teach me. I want my mind to be open to all input so that I might learn as much as I can.
The sun is full up now and its light in my eyes is making me sneeze. The cat is nowhere to be found, and the sausages smell good enough that a small dog will arise soon and demand some of the pan scrapings in her breakfast. Saturday is upon me. I shall go now and step into the day.