In a world of shouting, God whispers. If we sit in silence long enough, if we still all of the external and internal voices, there is God, whispering. When I woke up this morning I ran over a pair of speed bumps that threatened to take the day off course rather quickly. I have found that if the day starts good and goes bad, it still has the possibility of ending as a good day.
But, if the day starts bad, too often there is nothing I seem to be able to do except ride it out and start the next day.
So, this morning, when I bounced over those two speed bumps, I decided to immediately reset the day. I told myself what became my mantra for the day, that I am carrying with me even now, here in the afternoon, as the day winds toward its end. “Slow. Slow. Slow.” I have spent the entire day consciously and deliberately slowing down every time I felt myself speeding up.
Taking a deep breath.
And going “slow, slow, slow”.
Now it is close to three PM and all in all, it has been both a good and productive day. I’ve weaved my way through a series of meetings. I’ve resolved some sticky issues. I’ve handled some customer requests. I had a nice lunch.
I am sliding into the evening with a brief plan. I want to stop and get a fresh salad for dinner and I need to stop at the accountant and sign some papers. Since I am going to be next to a Coin Star location I am going to run my bowl of spare change through the machine and then crackle with glee as I count my riches.
Well, okay, I made the cackle with glee part up. Odds are that won’t happen.
I have been thinking today, pretty much all day, about the mysterious nature of the universe. It was the thought that was on my mind when I woke this morning (well, immediately after the thoughts that involved nakedness).
My friend Tony is in a transitional stage right now. He is at a fork in the road and over the next couple of days will be choosing a path or not making a choice and letting the choice be made for him. Either way, there is a path that diverges and he is at the fork.
As human beings our path is always forward, down the inexorable arrow of time. We can’t do anything about that, we can’t turn around and go back, we can’t reverse that particular journey. We can wiggle around a bit. We can make choices that are basic and simple, choices about a little more of this, choices about a little less of that. The more complex choices are largely made by what I like to refer to as the process of incidents and accidents. Things happen. Other things happen. Some of them we are active participants in. Others we are passive participants in. Either way the journey continues.
The great mystery closes one door.
The great mystery opens another door.
We strive, imperfectly, to follow the Way.