A Heart Converted
I enter softly into a sacred week - a Holy Week...
This is a week sacred to many - with Passover and Holy Week intertwined...
Holy Week is ushered in with Palm Sunday, on a magnificent weekend coinciding with the peaking of cherry blossoms, resplendent in every way, all over the city...
I walk under an exquisite canopy of blossoms, enveloped in their beauty, as they "rain" their petals on my head, anointing me...
In these moments, I feel a sense of oneness and presence that borders on pure ecstasy.
For over a year I have prayed and made the request - "Create a clean heart in me," (Psalm 51) seeking to embody the way and path of the heart... And this sacred season, I have sought to reflect its essence even more deeply...
"The converted person does not say that nothing matters anymore, but that everything that is, happens in God and that God is the dwelling place where we come to know the true order of things...
The converted person says: 'All is clothed in divine light and therefore nothing can be unimportant.' Converted persons see, hear, and understand with a divine eye, a divine ear, a divine heart. Converted persons know themselves and all the world in God. Converted persons ARE where God is, and from that place everything matters: giving water, clothing the naked, working for a new world order, saying a prayer, smiling at a child, reading a book, and sleeping in peace. All has become different while all remains the same."
~ Henri Nouwen
I continue to stroll under the magnificent blossoms from cherry trees and Bradford Pears, fully engaged - and yet absent - in this world - and behind the veil - knowing full well they are one and the same. All - truly has become different, and yet is really the same...
Twilight yields the remains of the day into the night, as I sit on my deck on Monday - this first day of Passover, and the beginning of Holy Week - mindful that on this night, millions gather to celebrate the Seder meal together.
My heart longs and yearns to be at such a table, soaking in the traditions, the readings, the prayers - even though I have never been to a "real" one... But it does not matter, for I BREATHE in the prayers offered all over the planet - sharing and actively participating in the blessings and the petitions recited, as if they were mine...
I enter into a week softly, of walking the labyrinth, attending a Taize service, Stations of the Cross, Easter Vigil, and other services, knowing that with each step, and each prayer and timeless chant, I INHALE and EXHALE with millions of others - praying - singing - chanting - swaying - and embodying all the characteristics of a heart converted.
This is a week sacred to many - with Passover and Holy Week intertwined...
Holy Week is ushered in with Palm Sunday, on a magnificent weekend coinciding with the peaking of cherry blossoms, resplendent in every way, all over the city...
I walk under an exquisite canopy of blossoms, enveloped in their beauty, as they "rain" their petals on my head, anointing me...
In these moments, I feel a sense of oneness and presence that borders on pure ecstasy.
For over a year I have prayed and made the request - "Create a clean heart in me," (Psalm 51) seeking to embody the way and path of the heart... And this sacred season, I have sought to reflect its essence even more deeply...
"The converted person does not say that nothing matters anymore, but that everything that is, happens in God and that God is the dwelling place where we come to know the true order of things...
The converted person says: 'All is clothed in divine light and therefore nothing can be unimportant.' Converted persons see, hear, and understand with a divine eye, a divine ear, a divine heart. Converted persons know themselves and all the world in God. Converted persons ARE where God is, and from that place everything matters: giving water, clothing the naked, working for a new world order, saying a prayer, smiling at a child, reading a book, and sleeping in peace. All has become different while all remains the same."
~ Henri Nouwen
I continue to stroll under the magnificent blossoms from cherry trees and Bradford Pears, fully engaged - and yet absent - in this world - and behind the veil - knowing full well they are one and the same. All - truly has become different, and yet is really the same...
Twilight yields the remains of the day into the night, as I sit on my deck on Monday - this first day of Passover, and the beginning of Holy Week - mindful that on this night, millions gather to celebrate the Seder meal together.
My heart longs and yearns to be at such a table, soaking in the traditions, the readings, the prayers - even though I have never been to a "real" one... But it does not matter, for I BREATHE in the prayers offered all over the planet - sharing and actively participating in the blessings and the petitions recited, as if they were mine...
I enter into a week softly, of walking the labyrinth, attending a Taize service, Stations of the Cross, Easter Vigil, and other services, knowing that with each step, and each prayer and timeless chant, I INHALE and EXHALE with millions of others - praying - singing - chanting - swaying - and embodying all the characteristics of a heart converted.
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