I was stopped in my tracks by this excellent article. . . I was moved . . . and I began to wonder: is this piece of writing not itself a seed? If it is, what "secret" does it keep hidden? I ponder deeply, but nothing is immediately forthcoming. So I continue to wonder: if it has light to shed, what form would it take? Perhaps it could show in the form of a lesson? I become impatient. I demand to know - now - as is the way of one steeped in this "instant everything" world: instant knowing, instant wisdom, instant revelation. So, I continue wondering: could it be that maybe, just maybe, this secret is not mine to know? Then the bigger question: could I be trusted with this knowing even if I got it? In my insistent pursuit of instant answers, and getting confirmation of some preconception of my own about how life and the universe is supposed to operate, do I have the patience to listen deeply for long enough, and am I sufficiently respectful of the sanctity of the mystery, to just let it be and to reveal itself in its own time, not mine? The questions keep coming . . . always followed by the nagging doubt: what would I do with the answers if I got them? Perhaps if I am patient for long enough, and am willing to listen deeply enough, I will find out. Maybe that's the lesson . . . maybe.
On Dec 1, 2015 David Allen wrote :
I was stopped in my tracks by this excellent article. . . I was moved . . . and I began to wonder: is this piece of writing not itself a seed? If it is, what "secret" does it keep hidden? I ponder deeply, but nothing is immediately forthcoming. So I continue to wonder: if it has light to shed, what form would it take? Perhaps it could show in the form of a lesson? I become impatient. I demand to know - now - as is the way of one steeped in this "instant everything" world: instant knowing, instant wisdom, instant revelation. So, I continue wondering: could it be that maybe, just maybe, this secret is not mine to know? Then the bigger question: could I be trusted with this knowing even if I got it? In my insistent pursuit of instant answers, and getting confirmation of some preconception of my own about how life and the universe is supposed to operate, do I have the patience to listen deeply for long enough, and am I sufficiently respectful of the sanctity of the mystery, to just let it be and to reveal itself in its own time, not mine? The questions keep coming . . . always followed by the nagging doubt: what would I do with the answers if I got them? Perhaps if I am patient for long enough, and am willing to listen deeply enough, I will find out. Maybe that's the lesson . . . maybe.