Awe and Wonder

I did a meditation retreat recently in an old redwood forest in the hills above Santa Cruz. It was my first retreat in years. And just so happened to occur during a very full time in my life. I went in busy, and came out bursting with openingness and life. Then, of course, came back to busy again. Yet, I managed to tap into a sliver of openness to bring back into my daily life.

It’s amazing how all we really need is the time to realize that we don’t really need anything to get to where we wanted to be all along. But, get to isn’t the right verb. In fact, it’s more like already are. And somehow, time, freedom, sitting still is all we really need to realize that we already are, what we are seeking. 

For me the biggest takehome from the retreat was space. Openness. Love. Not in like a big wondrous sense of those words - like some all encompassing enlightenment. More like a simple, easy, realization of their presence in my daily life. 

Walking the hills amongst the redwoods. Eating vegetarian food in the simple cafeteria with like-minded searchers. Touring the old hindu temple on the grounds. I was left with this realization that I am surrounded by awe and wonder. Constantly. That I love so much about my experience, but often don’t take the time to appreciate it. To allow gratitude to flow for the most basic of things. 

So, I’m reminded, again, that gratitude is a muscle. That awe is something we have to be open to. That wonder is more a quality of ourselves than what we are looking at or experiencing. 

I found myself naturally cultivating this during and immediately after the trip by saying to myself the simple phrase “I love that” when I encounter something I loved. That could be a golden field on a forest hillside. A gentle smile from a stranger. The stereo of someone else's car as they bob their head. The patience of the breeze as it waits for me to notice it. The way the leaves of the tree fracture the light before it hits the ground in fractals. The surprise reflection of the sunrise in a pane of glass while I’m facing west. 

The thing I know, but always seem to forget, is that when you start looking for something, you find it. And the more love I look for in my life; the more wonder I notice; the more awe I allow into my chest, the more it shows up. As if I am not doing anything. It was already there. Waiting for me to remember it again. Waiting for me to appreciate it. To acknowledge it.