I kept my promise to myself and spent the start of my morning visiting the wetland near Claire’s camp. Font Hill Wetland in Columbia, Maryland. I am reminded that in returninng to the same place again and again, a palpable sacred relationship comes into play and divine expression is more easily revealed.
Beauty was all around me.
Bright raspberries against a background of green leaves,
mushrooms growing vertically from a moss-covered fallen tree,
the sky and tree tops captured in a puddle at my feet.
And from these holy glimpses I recalled the Navajo prayer that Thomas Berry—my mentor/teacher/beloved friend—sent me in a letter long ago.
In beauty may I walk.
All day long may I walk.
Through the returning seasons may I walk.
Beautifully will I possess again.
Beautifully birds . . .
Beautifully joyful birds . . .
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk.
With dew about my feet may I walk.
With beauty may I walk.
With beauty before me may I walk.
With beauty behind me may I walk.
With beauty above me may I walk
With beauty all around me may I walk.
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk.
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk.
It is finished in beauty.
I am thirsty for beauty right now, not only for inspiration, but to heal the deep sorrow I feel as a witness to the destruction of the living Earth; as a witness to the overwhelming destruction inherent in a culture focused on consumption without conscience. This destruction extends all the way to the very survival of the human species. We won’t survive unless we find a new orientation, one that brings the living Earth into our community as a beloved member of our family—a mother that sustains us unselfishly and deserves our respect, our reverence, and our full attention.
“Our fulfillment is not in our isolated human grandeur, but in our intimacy with the larger earth community, for this is also the larger dimension of our being. Our human destiny is integral with the destiny of the earth,” wrote Thomas.
I am walking in beauty for myself for now, trusting that in these small, intimate moments of being present to the living Earth I will find the strength to come back into the world anew, less overwhelmed and better able to contribute to the critical shift we are being called to make, a shift to a world that lives first and foremost in harmony with this amazing, living Earth.
Don’t you just love the color of moss?
Words for a Better World 