Gratitude and the Present

The other day I posted something on love, saying how God’s love is indefinable. But I remembered later that there’s a passage in The Little Book of Truths (p109) that gives me a similar sense of the evanescent that I had. In speaking of the divine love of the Father, it says,

Now, this love does not come all at once in its fullness, but as a still small voice, it tenderly and timidly answers the call of the heart that cries for it in earnestness and faith, and as it is nurtured it grows stronger and more soul-possessing, and makes its presence felt to the supplicant. 

I just wanted to add that; it speaks to me of the complete lack of demand that struck me too.

I’d also like to post something else I wrote on returning from my three day trip in the hills…

Mindful that the weather forecast promised three sunny days before the next bout of rain, I decided to take my backpack and go to Cascade Saddle, an area I had been close to but never actually visited before, as I was keen to see the view of the other side of the range.  It would take three pretty big days but I was travelling alone and thus was without the extra worry involved (for me) about how companions might be faring.

I also wanted to travel alone because I was hopeful of fewer distractions than when I am at home alone.  Since childhood I have been in the habit of going off alone; it has become an escape route for me when I feel I need one.  I know that much of the time I will be thinking either of the future (and in fact, again my habit is to worry rather than to dream) or of the past.  Here I used to think more positively and allow only the good memories but as my family will remind me, of late I have been more prone to focus on the gloomier aspects and forget the good times.

However, on this trip I resolved to notice my fixation on past or future and draw myself back to the present.  I thought I would try out having God as my travelling companion. 

And this trip has been a reminder that for me God is in the present. I rode my son’s trusty little bike laden with my backpack and boots to the start of the track and could have been (and was, at times) distracted by my fears of a puncture and me with no gear to fix it, whether my water bottle was full enough to get me there, whether I’d use up so much energy on the hills I’d not be able to finish the full day I’d planned… the list goes on.  But back in the present, here I was, enjoying the fruits of some inventive genius on this bicycle, which is such a practical marvel even in these days of automation and electricity, the sun and the wind, the road built years ago to make life easier for we travellers – and God who is, for me, the driving force behind it all.

A habit I’ve also developed especially over the last year or two is to remind myself whenever I see something beautiful, be it a sunset or an intricate tapestry pattern or an insect poised, that God has just presented me with a gift.  I feel sure that I only really see a tiny fraction of the gifts God gives me in this way but on this trip, with the mountains recently coated with fresh snow, the long summer grasses, the bush, I could go on… it was so easy to feel gratitude, and to voice this to God who so kindly consented to be with me, never complaining about sore feet or that my pace was too fast or slow, just there whenever I chose to be aware. 

My businessman brother has read his share of self-help books and is strong on the ‘attitude of gratitude’.  I, on the other hand, am more like the nine lepers in the story where Jesus was said to have cured ten and only one returned…  My brother has had his share of major ups and downs in his life and I would not like to have the troubles he has had for all his appearance of success to the world.  However when good things happen he is so beautifully free with his appreciation and enjoyment that it is easy to see why so many good things do happen to him.  He rarely goes to church I believe, but he regularly thanks God for helping him when he asks for help.

One thing I noticed over the three days which is worth my testing out further, was that whenever I became conscious of an ache or if I bumped or scratched myself along the way it always seemed to coincide with my having drifted into thoughts of the past or the future.  It was as if my body was reminding me to ‘pay attention to the present’.  And when I did so, whether I’m deluding myself I don’t know (but it doesn’t feel like it) the pain also receded.  Overall I felt happier, more real, more appreciative of life when I returned to ‘the present’ than when my mind drifted away.

And I don’t need to go anywhere really for that to happen.  Just be aware that God is with me.