Like a River

June days are upon us. Peas are coming up in our garden, and I have three lovely tomato plants too, thanks to a church gardener who shall remain anonymous. I am writing this prior to our church annual meeting, but once again, it looks as though our hardworking stewardship committee, finance committee and board have pulled together a way for our congregation to get through these challenging financial times with grace and strength.

A lovely tiny poem came into my email box today, entitled, “Fluent” by John O'Donohue. It goes like this: 

I would love to live

Like a river flows,

Carried by the surprise

Of its own unfolding.

It reminds me of how I want to live as well. It is so easy to become worried and fearful—maybe this is my own temperament, but it seems to be wider that that, more like a cultural phenomenon. Michael Moore spoke about how our media are based in fear, and keep calling the alarm for the next bad thing around the corner. I often find myself falling into that trap too.

But instead, I can sometimes catch myself, can notice when I am sliding into alarmist projections, and shift the course. Margy and I are thinking that we might need to get ourselves a newer car, and sometimes I jump to the thought “it will be so hard to find one that we can afford.” But when I notice I am projecting a random negative outcome, I can interrupt it, shift into curiosity and expectation: that we will find interesting choices, that we will be helped, and just the right car will come along with a little bit of searching.

Of course, that is only one part of shifting the process—why should I have to project an outcome in any case? Or perhaps I could think like the Zen Buddhist, who says, “the glass is already broken.” In other words, don't feel attached to things as if they must always remain the same. All things come to an end, even us. Let go, and enjoy the present moment. What a life it would be to enter each day open to the surprise of its unfolding. Like the river. 

Each moment when I am able to do that is full of a secret sort of joy, even magic. I wish that kind of magic for you during this lovely month of June.

Rev. Myke