Paradigms of prayer--Gaze
October in Indiana is incredible. Maybe it's because I grew up in Orlando where the best thing about October is the temperature only gets around 90 and the humidity isn't quite suffocating. Here, it is beyond my words to describe how beautiful it is right now. At night it's a crisp 40-50 degrees, during the day maybe the 60's and 70's. The air seems so pure, so refreshing. And of course the trees. The trees are in the middle of their losing their leaves, with a brilliant display of color, beauty and imagination.
Beauty wasn't a part of my vernacular when I was younger (before 40!). If it wasn't practical, I wasn't concerned about it. Why water and fertilize, that only makes the grass grow so I have to cut it twice a week. But as I've gotten older, I've slowed down in more than one way. Silence has become a cherished part of my day. With 5 kids and a busy job, solitude is worth it's weight in gold. I've tried to simplify the pace and complexity of life. And I've noticed how beautiful life can be.
My family often finds ourselves sitting at one of our large windows gazing out into the woods. It is so compelling, just to view the beauty, and maybe even catch a glimpse of wildlife getting ready for winter. Even when I'm busy working in the house or office, if I step outside and glance at the trees, for a moment time stands still. It's as if nothing else matters for a brief second or two, only to acknowledge a Masters creation of living artwork. In that momentary gaze, I find my heart drawn to a deeper reality behind the allure of incredible nature. The trees, the leaves, the cool wind become an icon representing a mystical life more fulfilling than any life pursuit. If I take a few more moments, I'm am heading down a path of contemplation, of pondering this awareness of God's presence. My eyes, my ears, even my pondering mind can become a gateway opening my heart up to this life giving reality.
The same phenomenon happens when I'm in front of an icon. I think of Pascha, of walking into a quiet, dark temple. The only light is in front of a chanter as they chant Psalms before the liturgy begins. As light will later fill the temple, the beauty of icons, the smell of incense, all reveal a presence to our gaze beyond comprehension.
I can't create an awareness of God. I certainly can't demand His Spirit to come and go. So I learn to be mindful, to be awake for that spontaneous contemplative experience that so often starts with a simple gaze.
Beauty wasn't a part of my vernacular when I was younger (before 40!). If it wasn't practical, I wasn't concerned about it. Why water and fertilize, that only makes the grass grow so I have to cut it twice a week. But as I've gotten older, I've slowed down in more than one way. Silence has become a cherished part of my day. With 5 kids and a busy job, solitude is worth it's weight in gold. I've tried to simplify the pace and complexity of life. And I've noticed how beautiful life can be.
My family often finds ourselves sitting at one of our large windows gazing out into the woods. It is so compelling, just to view the beauty, and maybe even catch a glimpse of wildlife getting ready for winter. Even when I'm busy working in the house or office, if I step outside and glance at the trees, for a moment time stands still. It's as if nothing else matters for a brief second or two, only to acknowledge a Masters creation of living artwork. In that momentary gaze, I find my heart drawn to a deeper reality behind the allure of incredible nature. The trees, the leaves, the cool wind become an icon representing a mystical life more fulfilling than any life pursuit. If I take a few more moments, I'm am heading down a path of contemplation, of pondering this awareness of God's presence. My eyes, my ears, even my pondering mind can become a gateway opening my heart up to this life giving reality.
The same phenomenon happens when I'm in front of an icon. I think of Pascha, of walking into a quiet, dark temple. The only light is in front of a chanter as they chant Psalms before the liturgy begins. As light will later fill the temple, the beauty of icons, the smell of incense, all reveal a presence to our gaze beyond comprehension.
I can't create an awareness of God. I certainly can't demand His Spirit to come and go. So I learn to be mindful, to be awake for that spontaneous contemplative experience that so often starts with a simple gaze.
posted by Jeff at
5:06 PM
