The outside world is full of noise and din.
The outside world pulls and pushes,
Demands and sometimes demeans.
The outside world has all kinds of opinions about who you should be,
How you should look,
What you should do and buy,
And when you should quiet.
Which is never.
The world,
Like a toddler,
Will take as much as you have to give.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Welcome to a hit of hope.
Recently,
I went back to my hometown church to preach.
And on my way home,
I stopped by what are known as the Jeffers Petroglyphs.
They are a stretch of red rock in southwestern Minnesota,
Where Native Americans drew symbols like thunderbirds and atlatls and created and honored this sacred place.
When I told my plans to a friend,
He mentioned the Buffalo Rub Rock that is there and how amazing it was.
I didn't recall ever seeing that,
Even though I'd been to the Petroglyphs many times as a kid and several as an adult.
Walking through the prairie to get to the Buffalo Rub Rock,
My companions were the Gentle Wind and the Dancing Monarchs.
When I arrived at the deep green hollow,
I saw a rock that was about as big as an old Ford Pinto.
I couldn't imagine what my friend had thought was so special about it.
The rock had broken into three pieces,
And the two on the outside were rough and jagged.
But the middle rock had been rubbed smooth,
Apparently by buffalo who were in the mood for a good scratch.
The dark red and glossy rock shone as if lit from within.
Planting my feet on the ground,
I extended both of my hands and touched it.
The startling jolt of energy that moved from the rock and up my arms almost dropped me to my knees in awe.
The wind might have still been blowing,
The Monarchs might have still been dancing among the flowers,
But I was aware of nothing except the beautiful energy of the earth flowing into my body as I pressed my hands into the cool red rock.
The world,
And I do not mean the natural world,
The world of people will tell you you need to move,
Do,
Succeed,
Buy,
And it's easy to believe that world.
It's easy to drown in the details,
The to-dos.
Before I touched the buffalo rub rock,
I had far too much rabbit energy.
I was wired,
I could have driven past the turnoff so I could get home and get more done,
Because believe me,
I had a lot to get done,
And so I was sorely tempted to do so.
But I turned off the busy road.
I moved deeper into the wide open prairie.
I stepped toward the sacred.
My reward was a humbling,
Powerful experience with the divine that filled me with a quiet gratitude and brightened my own light inside.
Both yoga and meditation teachers often say to let go of that which no longer serves you.
The opposite is as true.
We should turn toward those good habits which do serve us,
Which bring expansion and meaning,
Which bring connection and delight.
Now that might not mean touching a rock for you.
But is there some part of your spirit,
And I bet it's the part of your spirit that's never quite grown up,
So some part of your spirit that still believes in wonder and magic,
Love and hope.
See what that part of your spirit needs today.
What could you do to feed it,
To honor it?
It might be stepping into the grass with bare feet.
It might be watching the clouds or the birds.
It might be sitting with your pet in your lap and reveling in the animal spirit that shares your life.
It might be drinking a cup of coffee or a spot of tea,
As if it is the elixir of life.
The din and noise of the outside world.
The to-do list.
They will always be there.
And so will the nourishing quiet,
The shining magic of what is beyond our normal ken.
But we have to seek it out with intention.
We have to turn toward it and give it our fullest attention.
We have to pause.
Still.
Center.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Plant yourself and reach your hands out to see what delight you might find.
Namaste.
