It is midnight. I just came in from watching some of the Geminid meteor shower. It rained today, thankfully, and there were light clouds moving about. I sat in a folding camp style chair, slumped back, rested my head on the back rest and looked up at the sky. Slowly, the clouds opened up creating an incredible view of the night sky with the constellation Orion smack dab in the middle. It was as if I had this bowl-like window into the universe.
The meteors started streaking across the sky. Some of them were as bright as I have ever seen and produced a spontaneous “oh” sound from me with a slight laugh. I was awestruck.
The clouds continued to drift above me, sometimes blocking my view of the stars. Patiently, I waited and on their own time, the clouds would clear away and more “shooting stars” streaked across the sky.
These things always affect me. I understand the science behind it all, but I also understand how our ancestors might come up with explanations that were also worthy of our attention. There is a story to be told. I can imagine how Orion the Hunter would be the main character in tonight’s story.
I also thought about my own life as I watched the clouds move in and out. Sometimes I seem to have a clear vision, even if underdeveloped, of a sense of the sacred. Other times, the clouds move in and I feel lost, confused and even afraid. I easily forget the sacredness of all life and my smallness and uniqueness and connectedness and worthiness as a family member of the universe. This is not some affirmation. It is just a sacred recognition before the clouds move back in and I find myself doubting and confused.
I have shared it before, but I wrote this song a few years ago after picking tomatoes from about 40 plants I had planted and nurtured. I had buckets and baskets full of incredible looking tomatoes and I just said, “The glory of it all.” My grandson is singing in the chorus with me.
Yep, the glory of it all!