Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home:"
Returning home to our true self, in each moment, is our lifework. We get sidetracked thinking the promotion, job, or finishing that e-book/workshop/project is what's important. Certainly, accomplishing some tasks is necessary however, the state of our being as we go about doing the task is more important than getting the task done.
Walk in the Graveyard
Returning to our breath - our thread to God - reconnects us to our true home. Likewise, taking a break from our daily world and going for a walk in a graveyard can reground our soul. Seriously - try it! Like I did early last Sunday morning after I dropped my husband off at work.
I was feeling pressured to get work done as my husband was working and I wasn't. Also, I was feeling resentful I "had to" wash the car, do the shopping, figure out the best e-book compiler, buy it and begin learning the software and writing that e-book. Worse yet, I felt martyred doing this all on Sunday. Normally, although I'm not much of a church-goer, I like to keep the Sabbath sacred nourishing myself and my spirituality.
As the "to-do" litany continued spoiling my morning I heard my small, still voice whisper, "Walk in the graveyard." Nearly driving by the graveyard, my decision was quick. My "busy" energy responded with, "Ok. Go to the graveyard and get your walk over with." With reflective hindsight, the complete "do/achieve" focus of that energy appalled me. My daily walks are intrinsic to my emotional and spiritual well-being - not solely a body exercise to be done!
At first I felt empty on this sunlit morning as I marched the graveyard perimeter for "maximum exercise." Then, following another intuitive impulse I broke off from the "exercise strategy" and strayed toward a gravestone that has always haunted me. There lay buried a young man, only twenty seven years of age, music notes adorning his tombstone and the words, "Even so, - it is well with my soul." Ah, in the face of such sorrow and loss, "Even so, - it is well with my soul." Ah