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Writer's pictureThe Other Mary

GOD OF WONDERS: Be like a Child or Smell like a Trout (I’m Paraphrasing…)


Catskills, NY 2011

ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE DYSTOPIAN HALLOWEEN SPECIAL


If there’s anything we’ve learned from the past year and a half of cognitive dissonance and new newer newest normals, it’s that even the most well-trodden traditions - the most rote routine - can grind to a halt with one natural disaster, one authoritative decree - one “act of God.”


Plans are laid waste on the wreckage of no-longer-available. Dreams are dashed upon the rocky shores of the new world order.


Unexpected death? I was just at a funeral this week that took a family off guard, who now have many complex things to figure out.

Financial setback? I was recently told a story about an immigrant family who poured their life into their restaurant business, which went under due to covid mandates.

Crushed relationship? I confess to you, my marriage has ended.


Even first world problems like computer parts being on indefinite backorder can have a devastating blow to essential services and income.


Nothing is certain. Not even the [any-time-now ready to rumble Cascadia Subduction Zone] ground beneath our feet.


All is vanity.


I have anxieties.


You too?


For me, it’s usually over money and love - not having enough of either. I know - real original.


Sometimes it’s more existential though, like what happens when the satanic overlords press the big red button and initiate the great reset, the antichrist takes the throne, and the zombie apocalypse begins? (And we thought the toilet paper shortage was bad!)


THAT “CONSIDER THE LILIES” LINE


Tulip Time! No literally, that’s what it’s called. The great annual flower festvial of Holland Michigan, 2016

When a Christian worries, the go-to verse is always:


Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than the raiment? Behold the birds of the heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not ye of much more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit unto [a]the measure of his life? And why are ye anxious concerning raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God doth so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Be not therefore anxious, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the Gentiles seek; for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. - Matthew 6:25-32

I actually do love that passage and think of it often. It’s very poetic and humbling, putting pinhole worries into a wide-angle perspective. Indeed - the God of all that…and we worry over this? But sometimes I smugly remind Jesus that he is able to manifest his tax money in a fish’s mouth, so it’s kinda easy for him to be all like whatevs about stuff.


SACRED GEOMETRY


Sunset over Lake Michigan

But what I just said there - about the pinhole vs the wide-angle: this is exactly the danger of worry; anxiety becomes obsession, which reduces your life down to a single point. I’m not a math expert, but I do know that in geometry, a single point is as flat and shapeless as you can get; it is the smallest unit of measurement in space and is undynamic. It does exist, but has no relation to anything else. It is the start of something, but it has no direction, no connection, no meaning other than it’s own pointedness. And what’s the point of that?


Once other nodes exist and lines are drawn between them, the dynamism begins, things take shape, form, purpose. They have names and movement. There is an interconnectedness and a relationship between the points, and each single point becomes vital to the existence of the other for the sake of something greater than themselves; the Big Picture.


ENTERING INTO THE KINGDOM


Young Pythagoras taking it all in.

Oh to have the eyes of a child again. How often do we hear parents speak reverently of being able to re-experience the world through the awe and wonder of their baby’s eyes as that planetary noob uses their senses for the first time. The baby - with the huge dilated eyes - truly sees the world and is not ashamed to let her mouth hang open, drooling dumbfounded at the sights to behold.


Another famous Bible verse is Jesus’ unusual statement:


At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” - Matthew 18:1-5

I suppose one can read into this verse many ways of “becoming” like little children, but certainly there’s an application with the eyes of a child, experiencing the wonder and mystery of life that God has given us, and the beauty and truth revealed in creation.


GOD OF WONDERS


Somewhere near Esperanza, BC


Twice recently was able to enter into the kingdom like a child, with my eyes fully open:


A couple weeks ago I was out at Esperanza, a remote location on the wild west coast of the island, only accessible by boat, which meant departure was only by boat as well. We needed to bring a couple working at Esperanza back to their home in Tahsis, a 25 minute cruise north through the surrounding straights. This passage is indescribably beautiful; I lept at the opportunity to tag along and hitch a ride for the sake of it.


In fact, it’s almost too beautiful; it’s actually hard to take it all in. There’s so much to marvel at that after a while, you almost get magnificence fatigue; I felt guilty for getting to the point where the majestic mountains became mundane - there was just too much to behold.


I’ve heard scientists and psychologists say that this is exactly what happens as we get older - we begin to filter out most of the world for ease and functionality; if we were bedazzled every moment by each visual spectacle, we’d be too distracted to focus on any task. This is the “issue” attributed to severe autism - hypersensitivity and overstimulation through sound, light, texture, etc. We form patterns and shrink our experience down to bite-sized bits of information for quick processing and protection.


The problem with this is that we lose the ability to let the mystery in again when there are moments offering us the opportunity to be sensually open. We miss the chance to stand there and gawk unabashedly. If pressed, I could argue this can be a benefit to the psychedelic experience, which can force your senses to open anew. But is it possible to achieve that state without imbibing a substance? In fact, I might argue that if we could truly enter a pure state of sobriety, we’d have a more lucid - clear - experience than we would when inebriated.




Back on the boat: the contrast between the serenity of this place and my life back in the city brought to mind my pile of anxieties that awaited me upon return in just a couple days. As the scenery cruised by, my mind shrank down into that dreaded singularity point of trouble and stress, and I floundered to remain in the moment, for I knew it was fleeting and I wanted to savor it. The speed of the boat brought about whipping cold air that I hoped would keep me present, so I hoisted myself upon the port side ledge and leaned over the roof of the cab so I’d get a face full of wind and spray. I could see straight forward as the vessel skipped across…wait…whaaa?


Suddenly I could see again. I could see Water. There were small, relentless ripples so steady that I was induced into pure awe as I contemplated what as happening: this small aluminum contraption was afloat, gliding confidently over a liquid moving substance that was creating an artistic pattern as if it were alive, sentient, making beauty of itself simply for the pleasure of it…no - for my pleasure - because I have eyes to behold such a thing…no - for God’s pleasure - for He created it and created me…and I heard God say to me in that moment,


“I am the God of Water. Do not worry, all your needs are met.”

All the magic and mystery and delight and danger and life-sustaining properties of water filled my consciousness and I saw life in that wide-angle way, like a newborn, in this Kingdom where such a miraculous, curious thing such as water exists, as if I were just discovering it. I began to cry - more water, filling up my open eyes…saliva - more water, filling my mouth that nearly hung open. All of this - myself included - was sustained because of Him…truly, what could I possibly worry about when looking at it from that grand perspective?


Gnosis on a Boat.



HE BLEW ME AWAY


View of Victoria from Mount Doug

Ah, but how quickly we lose our bearings, us foolish creatures groping about the Kingdom of Darkness.


I returned to the city. Refreshed and renewed to be sure, but picking things up where they left off, hoisting my burdens back upon my shoulder as I clocked back into Frustrated Incorporated.


But thanks be to God, He created me to enjoy nature and fitness, which I combine whenever possible. And so I found myself climbing Mount Douglass, a large hill or diminutive mountain - whichever you prefer - on the outskirts of the city. The trail I like is just on the right side strenuous without being off-putting (further right when slightly out of shape). I did well, though found myself panting as I neared the top.


One can approach panting in two ways: as a desperate grasping for oxygen, or as a controlled, conscious, deep response to what the body is asking for assertively. I try to always choose the latter. Air: another mystery, breathing - another trippy-ass wonderment…I scurried up the boulders at the bald summit like a kid: a baby mountain goat - and then truly became that kid-child again. For as I sat gazing out over the panoramic view of Victoria - the harbors, the downtown, the valley farmland, the friendly gridlocked neighborhoods - and even across the inlets to the so-close-yet-so-far shores of America, the wind began to whip fiercely, nearly blowing my jacket out of my hands that I scrambled to put on to shield myself.


View from Mt. Doug.

I had chosen to hike without my earbuds. Normally I enjoy walking to music or a podcast, but today my mind was so full of questions, I couldn’t handle any more noise in my head. I needed mental space…prayer. I wanted to hear the birds and the crunch of my footsteps; perhaps they would give me an answer…


As I held onto my hat and burrowed into my jacket, the Lord spoke to me and said,


“I am the God of the Wind. Do not fear. I hear your questions.”

I let the Wind enrapture me: How powerful He is - whipping like this, moving the air, swirling my hair and clothing in swoops and swishes…I felt movement again for the first time - the cold air in my lungs, the warm blood in my body filling my cheeks, the deafening wind in my ears rasping louder than the yelpiest of all my yapping problems. He blew my issues off me like dust from a rug, like chaff from the wheat…like my step-dad always says his mother used to say when going out for a walk: to “blow the stink off.” And I walked back down the mountain with a more spacious mind and new prayer - one that was clean, distilled, fresh.



God blowing my stink off atop Mt Doug.

WOE TO YOU, CURMUDGEON


The online dictionary definition of a curmudgeon is “a bad-tempered person, especially an old one.” Synonyms are “sourpuss” and “old trout.”


If we continue on with the example of the lilies from above (this time from Luke’s account), we get a slightly exasperated “duh!” from Jesus:


And which of you by being anxious can add a cubit unto the measure of his life? If then ye are not able to do even that which is least, why are ye anxious concerning the rest? -Luke 12:25-26

And if we continue on with the passage about the children, we receive a dire warning from Him - a rebuke about remaining too old and crusty and rubbing it off on others:


“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to stumble! Such things must come, but woe to the person through whom they come! - Matthew 18: 6-7

The bitter winds are going to blow anyway in life, and fretting won’t make it any less cold or whipping. Jesus says right there in the verse above, such things must come! But don’t let yourself be the conduit. Open your eyes to the straights of esperanza - hope - the mesmerizing molecules upon which Jesus walked effortlessly, and Peter walked upon too, with his gaze wide and fixed upon the Lord of the Vast. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself weighed down, mafia style, sinking to the bottom of it, asleep with the rest of the old trouts.


“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Says Jesus - the mic drop at the end of the book of John; John who had the vision that became the Book of Revelation - aka the apocalypse - the word which means revealing, uncovered - literally “lifting the lid” - eyes wide open.


A previous iteration of self, eyes wide open to the mystery.

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