Yesterday was the autumnal equinox, which is considered the beginning of fall in the northern hemisphere. Day and night were nearly equal in length yesterday, and now our days will continue to get shorter until we reach the winter solstice in December. In my newsletter a few weeks ago, I wrote about trying to capture sunrise and moonrise with pictures and words. Thinking about the autumnal equinox and the beauty of the changing seasons, I’m once again struck with awe. The wonder of it all as the sun, earth, and moon do their things. And then to think that our little corner of the universe is just a small piece of it all. It reminded me of a book I read several years ago, The Untethered Soul: The Journey Beyond Yourself by Michael A. Singer.
“To get some distance from this, you first need to get some perspective. Walk outside on a clear night and just look up into the sky. You are sitting on a planet spinning around in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Though you can only see a few thousand stars, there are hundreds of billions of stars in our Milky Way Galaxy alone. In fact, it is estimated that there are over a trillion stars in the Spiral Galaxy. And that galaxy would look like one star to us, if we could even see it. You’re just standing on one little ball of dirt and spinning around one of the stars. From that perspective, do you really care what people think about your clothes or your car? Do you really need to feel embarrassed if you forget someone’s name? How can you let these meaningless things cause pain? If you want out, if you want a decent life, you had better not devote your life to avoiding psychological pain. You had better not spend your life worrying about whether people like you or whether your car impresses people. What kind of life is that? It is a life of pain. You may not think that you feel pain that often, but you really do. To spend your life avoiding pain means it’s always right behind you.” (Michael Singer)
I like the image of “sitting on a planet spinning around in the middle of absolutely nowhere.” Whew - that brings perspective! I also like the point about “psychological pain” and not spending time trying to avoid it. Feel the feelings. I’ve written about that before - here and here. And so have others, throughout the ages. it’s nothing new. Yet we humans need constant reminders, don’t we? So we keep talking and writing about it.
Lately I’ve been thinking of how we hold seemingly divergent feelings at the same time. Joy and grief, for example.
Which reminds me of this poem:
Adrift by Mark Nepo
Everything is beautiful and I am so sad.
This is how the heart makes a duet of
wonder and grief. The light spraying
through the lace of the fern is as delicate
as the fibers of memory forming their web
around the knot in my throat. The breeze
makes the birds move from branch to branch
as this ache makes me look for those I’ve lost
in the next room, in the next song, in the laugh
of the next stranger. In the very center, under
it all, what we have that no one can take
away and all that we’ve lost face each other.
It is there that I’m adrift, feeling punctured
by a holiness that exists inside everything.
I am so sad and everything is beautiful.
Yes. The duality of feelings, of our human existence.
Maybe I’m not sad in this exact moment. And also there is so much to be sad about.
When I left work one evening last week, I saw a man digging through a garbage can on campus looking for food. And then I went into the parking garage and saw luxury cars. I don’t know what I can do about this. If I had cash or some food in my bag, I could have offered it. And yet it’s bigger than that.
There are those global or systemic sadnesses (injustices actually) and then there are personal sadnesses that come with losses or changes or rejections.
And also the beauty of the world remains.
This is timely because there’s been a lot of local media coverage regarding the retirement of our beloved Mailman Mike, whose last day on the job was yesterday. He’s a person who brought smiles and joy to us everyday. Who knows all our names. He didn’t deny the sadness and grief in the world. He just tried to bring more joy. Both/and. That’s inspiring. That’s something to strive for.
***
I’m not sure if these random end-of-the-weekend musings make much sense. All I can offer is the thread of my thoughts and the quotes that came to me today.
Thanks for reading.
Gratefully,
Mary