Awestruck
Part 2: Torn
But what if we could stitch together the everyday and the wonderful? I am tempted to say that all life has that awestruck quality to it, but I may be going too far, losing touch with reality – and certainly leaping ahead. For we are still struggling to make sense of what these awestruck moments mean, let alone claiming that all life is like that – not even, all life “should” be like that, but all life “is” like that. But, of course, I am being ridiculous. We enjoy sentiments such as, “All life is a prayer”, but our experiences of being awestruck are as they are precisely because they poleaxe us with their beauty, their wonder, and their rarity. (“Poleaxe” – a strangely violent illustration, yet somehow doing justice to being completely floored – perhaps in a spiritual rather than a physical way, cut in two). So, ridiculous to even suggest that, somehow, all life is like this. Yet, I have a peculiar intuition, just out of sight, around the corner of my mind, that I should blurt this out. What is it that I’m reaching for?
When I am on holiday, my greatest treat is to have the morning free to myself to read. We will have hired a villa somewhere with a beautiful view. My wife and daughters have each found their own favourite spot and will be enjoying themselves too, so I can mentally, “leave them at peace” and enjoy my free time. Compared to the busyness of my working life, this day of holiday is sheer bliss. I know we will meet up later for lunch and I will enjoy their company, but for now, this is all for me: the time and place, and the freedom. I want nothing more than to sit right here and read my book.
And my book is so absorbing and enriching. Yet, I look up often. Partly to admire the view, but also partly, to revel in the sense of time and place and freedom. So, I am torn. There is great joy in reading my book. But the greatest joy of the occasion is the time and place and freedom to read. If I focus my attention on the wonder of this freedom, I am not actually reading. Yet, if I read – loving every minute of it – I feel I am missing the opportunity to revel in the freedom of this time and place. Yet, if I do not read, I have an opportunity – and I love the opportunity – but I am not actually using the opportunity to do anything. This is an abiding problem for me. Life strikes me as so ineffably wonderful and beautiful that it demands and deserves my full attention to honour it with my devotion. Yet, I must also “do” something with the wonderful opportunity that life is offering to me. But while I am “busy” doing this, I am not aware of the preciousness of what it is I’m doing. I want to focus intently on what I’m doing, while also looking up and looking around me to value the context in which I am intently doing.
Spiritual Devotion 