When you reach the heart of life, you shall find beauty in all things, even in the eyes that are blind to beauty — Kahlil Gibran
Our great universe is flooded with a galaxy of wonders. God’s grace and beauty is embodied in millions of human beings — like so many stars. It is just that we are oblivious to it. Surely, we ought to hold fast to the wonder, beauty, splendour and amazing radiance that permeates every pore of God’s own earth. We are occasionally amazed by this great mystery but often fail to appreciate it in the heat and bustle of our daily lives. We get tight. We get small. We override our capacity to admire beauty, to celebrate and to savour from the heart.
There is no fault in God’s plan of the universe. Its alchemy is simply marvelous. All too often we recognise it in hindsight — in a backward glance we remember what a spectacle it held for us and then suddenly realise that it is no more. We remember a beauty that faded, a love that waned, a music that receded, and a wonder that mellowed. But we remember with far greater pain that we did not see that beauty when it bloomed and blossomed; that we failed to respond to love with love when it was offered; that we failed to enjoy the music when it resonated; and didn’t appreciate the life when it glowed bright.
The sad thing is that it happens to most of us so rarely. As we grow older, our lives get buried under the pressures of the workaday world. Most of us have experienced such magic moments, when we seem to understand ourselves and the world, and for a single instant, know the loveliness of living beings. But these moments fade quickly, and we are almost wrenched to admit that they have been with us.
Here then is the cardinal pole of life’s paradoxical demands on us: never be too busy to deprive yourself of the wonder and the awe of life. Be reverent before each drawing day. Embrace each wonderful hour. Seize each golden minute. Even ordinary things have the power to touch every heart. Simple things like, a woman pulling water from a well, a grandma feeding a baby cow, a fisherman heading out to the sea — all are images which tell us that everything is all right with the world today.
At sundown, as glow-worms wink goodbye against an inky blue sky, all eyes are directed skywards in search of the crescent moon. The sun has gone down, the evening mellowed by the soft amber of the setting sun. Through a break in the clouds, a new moon looking like a pared fingernail appears beside the evening star. We can use these silent moments to soften our pain, assuage our grief and salve our grieving heart. It is only in such gentler moments that we can seek the melody of our lives and perceive the astral beauty of the divine. Hold on fast to life, but not so fast that you cannot let go. This is the other side of life’s coin, the opposite pole of its paradox. We must accept our losses and learn how to let go.
As the great Sufi master Inayat Khan advices us: “Instead of lamenting your fate, create your world.”
