Morning Trip (219)

“Think of yourself as a radio. When you are tuned in to your Higher Power (HP), it is like having clear reception on a very powerful frequency. It would be great if we could remain tuned in, but a hectic day in the material world causes the tuning dial to drift away. Before you know it, the clear reception has tuned into static.

We try to tune in to HP again, but it may not be so easy to turn the dial. Those who cannot do it have no choice but to tolerate the static. Their stress level goes up as they expend valuable energy to block out the loud and insistent noise.

To turn the dial, experienced cultivators center themselves. They take slow and deep breaths, knowing that the more frantic you are, the less you are able to find the timeless wavelength of their HP. Their inner tranquility causes the metaphysical tuning mechanism to automatically zero in on the right signal. Suddenly, the spiritual antennae bristle with energy, the noise of the static fades away and the only thing that remains is the voice of your HP.

What do you hear when you tune in to your HP? It may be the soundless melodies of nature’s music. It may be the wordless whispers of ancient wisdom. You can listen to the broadcast, or just let it play in the background as an unobtrusive companion for your happy solitude. Enjoy this gift from your HP in your own way.”

–unknown

Morning Trip (119)

“As far back as I can remember, things seen or heard or smelled, things tasted or touched, have provoked in me an answering vibration. The stimulus might be the sheen of moonlight on the needles of a white pine, or the iridescent glimmer on a dragonfly’s tail, or the lean silhouette of a ladder-back chair, or the glaze on a hand-thrown pot. It might be bird song or a Bach cantata or the purl of water over stone. It might be a line of poetry, the outline of a cheek, the arch of a ceiling, the savor of bread, the sway of a bough or a bow. The provocation might be as grand as a mountain sunrise or as humble as an icicle’s jeweled tip, yet in each case a familiar surge of gratitude and wonder wells up in me.

Now and again some voice raised on the stairs leading to my study, some passage of music, some noise from the street, will stir a sympathetic thrum from the strings of the guitar that tilts against the wall behind my door. Just so, over and over again, impulses from the world stir a responsive chord in me — not just any chord, but a particular one, combining notes of elegance, exhilaration, simplicity, and awe.”

— Scott Russell Sanders, Hunting for Hope