I gave up trying to stop the tears. I abandoned my ruined defenses:
"I don't deserve any support from God after what I did." "Maybe not, but God's not interested in operating a brownie-point system – only in loving and forgiving those who are brave enough not to deny what they've done, no matter how terrible, brave enough to be truly sorry, brave enough to resolve to make a fresh start in serving Love as well as they possibly can."
I sat there with tears streaming down my face, and then just as I was thinking how utterly I was cut off from the Great Healer, that shining, mysterious figure I had tried so hard for so long to follow, Clare reached out across the table and briefly covered my clenched fists with her scarred hands.
In THE SNOW LEOPARD, Peter Matthiesen describes his son, Alex:
In his first summers, forsaking all his toys, my son would stand rapt for near an hour in his sandbox in the orchard, as doves and redwings came and went on the warm wind, the leaves dancing, the clouds flying, birdsong and sweet smell of privet and rose. The child was not observing; he was at rest in the very center of the universe, a part of things, unaware of endings and beginnings, still in unison with the primordial nature of creation, letting all light and phenomena pour through.
The purpose of meditation practice is not enlightenment; it is to pay attention even at unextraordinary times, to be of the present, nothing-but-in-the-present, to bear this mindfulness of now into each event of ordinary life.
