I’m currently rereading Thomas Merton: When the Trees Say Nothing. In my thirties, Merton’s writings provided a spiritual reservoir of insight and guidance. I learned from this monk of Gethsemane how nothing of our lives can be left out when it comes to relating to the Holy One. In particular, his writings assured me that each piece of creation has its own spiritual validity and sacredness. Merton writes:
“The forms and individual characters of living and growing things, of inanimate beings, of animals and flowers and all nature, constitute their holiness in the sight of God. Their inscape is their sanctity. It is the imprint of His wisdom and His reality in them. This leaf has its own texture and its own pattern of veins and its own holy shape, and the bass and trout hiding in the deep pools of the river are canonized by their beauty and their strength.”
I’m grateful for Thomas Merton’s unspoken permission to embrace the sacredness of the natural world. When I am mindfully there, I feel a peace and equilibrium for my spirit found nowhere else. In January I spent several weeks writing at a cabin in the woods. There I could sense all of life dwelling in the heart of the Holy. The ferocious winds, the bitterly cold below-zero nights, the dazzling stars I went out to admire before bedtime, the strength of moonlight casting long tree-shadows across the hills, the soft, gradual light of morning and the blazing red sunsets—all this led to inner harmony. I felt a kinship with the frozen land and water, creatures and birds, including the nervous pheasants that went flying and screeching out of their roosts as I walked through the woods at sundown.
Within this sphere of contentment, I recognize how a struggle for harmony also takes place in the natural world, as with human life. Creation does let us forget how everything teems with its own life-death-rebirth cycles. As I watched eagles dive to snatch squirrels and downy woodpeckers tap for insects in tree bark, I thought of the California wildfires consuming humans, homes, trees, vegetation, and creatures. Not everything Holy consists of consolation and joy. And yet, every part of what exists has been embraced by the Sacred.
Long ago I began creating a small cache of prayers and poems to sustain inner harmony, much like the natural world sustains my peace when I “let go” and “let be.” I’ve memorized these spiritual jewels so they are available anytime, anywhere. Many of you have probably done something similar. The latest in my collection is Wisdom6:12, from the Book of Wisdom (also known as The Wisdom of Solomon), lauding the wonders of Holy Wisdom, the Forever-Near-Love that I experience as a guide for living justly and kindly. Here is the verse in case you, too, would like to tuck it into your heart for when you are in need.
Resplendent and unfading is Wisdom, and she is readily perceived by those who love her, and found by those who seek her. She hastens to make herself known to those who desire her; one who watches for her at dawn will not be disappointed, for she will be found sitting at the gate. For setting your heart on her brings understanding, and whoever keeps vigil for her is quickly free from care. She makes her rounds, seeking those worthy of her, and graciously appears to them on the way, and goes to meet them with full attention.
Abundant peace,
Joyce Rupp
