Sunday Communing...

Every once in a while, I crave a spiritual awakening...I find myself slipping into old patterns of dysfunctional behavior and feeling *stuck*...like my soul is constipated.

So, today I forced myself out of the hut (weary bones and all) and into my yard...I find such comfort and nurturing being in the dirt. It's as if my body recognizes where it has come from and where it will eventually return. Dust.

I live in the city, so it is often quite difficult for me to tune out the sounds of the pavement and really listen to the sounds of nature...it took me a while to deaden my awareness of the traffic noises, garden implements, and neighbor kids playing basketball. Such are the ears of a constipated soul...hypervigilant in listening to the unnecessary.

I performed some of the needed tasks of maintaining my flowers and other plants, providing water and fertilizer, and felt the warm sun gently heating my head and shoulders. I couldn't seem to shake the uneasy feeling in my body or the pain that has become a constant companion. Even with a lessening awareness of the city noises, my mind continued to jump from topic to topic, reliving any and all of my recently perceived slights. I was disheartened my outdoor experience was not providing me the proper laxative to move my soul into a spiritual awakening and I almost abandoned the excursion to return to the monotony of indoor life.

And then, I heard it. I even felt it...it was the tiny, but powerful flutter of a humming bird zipping to and fro near the rose bush I was watering. It came so close to my face, I could feel on my cheek the small current of air its wings created! Then, much to my delight and surprise, the little bird, barely bigger than my thumb, landed on one of the stems of the rose bush.

The humming bird just sat there staring at me...and I, too cautious to move a muscle not wanting to frighten the little creature away, stood mesmerized in the bird's stare. I don't know how long we remained captivated by one another...a minute, ten minutes, an hour? It seemed like an eternity yet only a brief encounter I imagine.

Eventually my new friend flew off up into the sky and I sat down on the ground, keenly aware of the stress and ache in my bones. As I closed my eyes and turned my face into the sun, I began to notice the faint smell of the rose bush just beginning to bloom, I heard the chirping of a robin in a tree near the fence, and I could just make out the quiet buzz of a bumble bee searching for food among the Rhododendron bush. I felt my body soften somewhat as tears fell silently from my eyes. Finally, release. My soul was letting go of the garbage packed tightly and accumulating over the past few weeks.

The world is my *church* in which I must always return to commune with Spirit/God and Nature is the pulpit of the sermon...I am oddly so astonished each time I forget this simple fact.

Today, the humming bird was my call to worship...and for this, I give great thanks...