I have wanted to write about this image all week. I was driving to work one morning just craving space and silence and presence… to my own life, to my own soul. I was on the edge of tears mostly because I love people so much, and yet, my own existence is sometimes lost in such love. (And even as I write those words, I think…what a beautiful lostness!) I know myself well enough to know that when I cannot find space for walks in nature, when I grow too tired to pray, when I choose television over Mark Nepo, Mary Oliver, or Anne Lamott… I am in
trouble. And that was one of those mornings… I realized the trouble, but I still had to go to work, I still needed
to tend others, I still needed to give the next 10 hours over to that ‘something else.’
But then, I came upon these cows standing out in an open field. They were black, and the field was covered with snow. And bam… there it was… space and silence and presence. I stopped my car. I stood there just breathing in their puffs of smoky, cold air. I listened to their sighing, their calling to one another. I let the extremes of black against white turn something in me. And I thought to myself, “I see these cows in this field every day. But
today the snow brought me present to them. The gift of tiny, tiny snowflakes merging together into this wide angle lens of heaven has helped me see, has helped me live my life in this small moment.”
trouble. And that was one of those mornings… I realized the trouble, but I still had to go to work, I still needed
to tend others, I still needed to give the next 10 hours over to that ‘something else.’
But then, I came upon these cows standing out in an open field. They were black, and the field was covered with snow. And bam… there it was… space and silence and presence. I stopped my car. I stood there just breathing in their puffs of smoky, cold air. I listened to their sighing, their calling to one another. I let the extremes of black against white turn something in me. And I thought to myself, “I see these cows in this field every day. But
today the snow brought me present to them. The gift of tiny, tiny snowflakes merging together into this wide angle lens of heaven has helped me see, has helped me live my life in this small moment.”
And as I drove home at the end of that busy day, I stopped here once again and took this photograph. Since then, I have looked at this image many, many times. I could do for a big, fat chunk of time all to myself. I would really appreciate the magic elves showing up while I sleep and cleaning my house. I would love to share my life with that mysterious man who has yet to arrive all soulful and generous and grounded. My art studio is lonely for my imagination and my books are stacked waiting for my eyes. But as this busy, giving, sometimes lonely woman, I am thankful that I am still wise enough and open enough to be nourished by sights like this.
The other thing I have been pondering is the gift of black and white. I like living in the grey. I believe there are very few matters in life that are either white or black. Oh, yes…and you know I have to say from my bright-eyed self…that there are a multitude of colors in which to stand. But there was something that morning about the black and the white and the fact that together they got my attention, how they together had something to say to me. I don’t know that I have completely worked this through, but there is a divine spark here that has something to do with coming together. The black and the white do not need to merge, perhaps. They do not need to give up their own identities and become grey. They simply need to be present enough to one another that they bring forward the absolute beauty in each. The white holds out the glory of the black, and the black raises up the wonder of the white. And in all of this is my lesson. The lesson is: If I can just show up, if I can keep my heart and soul tender enough, if I can decide that what is before me is everything… I will find life enough to sustain and yes… to overwhelm… and to bring the peace that I seek. Everywhere is grace. Everywhere there are answers. Everywhere, God stands ready and eager to hold us up, to bear our sorrows, to bless us with beauty and love and life.
I am praying that you and I together can just look, just open our eyes and see that what we seek is always available to us. And if the urge ever comes your way to pull your car over on the side of the road and watch the cows… I highly recommend it.
The other thing I have been pondering is the gift of black and white. I like living in the grey. I believe there are very few matters in life that are either white or black. Oh, yes…and you know I have to say from my bright-eyed self…that there are a multitude of colors in which to stand. But there was something that morning about the black and the white and the fact that together they got my attention, how they together had something to say to me. I don’t know that I have completely worked this through, but there is a divine spark here that has something to do with coming together. The black and the white do not need to merge, perhaps. They do not need to give up their own identities and become grey. They simply need to be present enough to one another that they bring forward the absolute beauty in each. The white holds out the glory of the black, and the black raises up the wonder of the white. And in all of this is my lesson. The lesson is: If I can just show up, if I can keep my heart and soul tender enough, if I can decide that what is before me is everything… I will find life enough to sustain and yes… to overwhelm… and to bring the peace that I seek. Everywhere is grace. Everywhere there are answers. Everywhere, God stands ready and eager to hold us up, to bear our sorrows, to bless us with beauty and love and life.
I am praying that you and I together can just look, just open our eyes and see that what we seek is always available to us. And if the urge ever comes your way to pull your car over on the side of the road and watch the cows… I highly recommend it.
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