by Nick Andrea
I gave a talk at church about humility, yesterday, and my point was that by quieting the intellect I can see with the heart. In doing so, the ordinary takes on an extraordinary quality, a beauty I cannot see when I am ignorant of my oneness with what is before me.
To demonstrate, I invited the congregation to consider several everyday things with an expanded mind – the stone hewed from the Earth to build the church which must be billions of years old, the sight of the Milky Way on a clear night crossing the sky like a cosmic river, and the trees outside the window, living creatures growing up from the Earth like hair. These were my best attempts at eloquently expressing that which has become the most persistent and liberating in my life: experiences of the grand synchronicity happening every moment, a single universal energy that shows up in many forms, communicating constantly with each other in silent ways.
I finished the talk and was told after the service by a congregant, that right after I mentioned the trees, a giant hawk flew in and landed on a low branch, perched for about thirty seconds, and then flew away. “It was spooky,” she recalled.
“And, more poetic than me,” I might add. So, while it may have been me that was trying to impart the lesson, but I think it was me that learned the most – the grand synchronicity demonstrates itself more eloquently than my intellect ever could. And I am, truly, humbled.