In an article in Sufi magazine entitled The Secret Kingdom is Everywhere, Mark Nepo writes, “Each moment
that touches us is a window to the vastness of life.”
We’ve all had such moments, times when we’re pulled out of
our small concerns to stand in awe before that which is so much greater than
ourselves. To live consistently in such moments, though, is not easy. Our minds seem intent on carrying us anywhere but here. This
afternoon’s tasks. Yesterday’s argument. Last night’s splendor. Tomorrow’s
worries.
Even with bodies still, our minds are restless, wriggly things. This is why some folks engage in regular meditation practice,
time set aside to quiet on the inside. In meditation, we intentionally sit
before the window Nepo refers to, the one that opens onto vastness.
Nepo has not, however, exhausted the metaphor. He notes that
the spiritual journey is “about the relationship between our walls and our windows.” If windows open us to wonder, walls close us down. While
walls come in many forms, each shuts us away from the vivifying essence that permeates
the present moment.
So we practice stilling ourselves, employing various
techniques to calm our scuttling minds. And we open to what is…to this moment…and
this one..and this next one. Until, that is, we’re swept away again by an
onrush of thoughts. While beginning meditators are often frustrated by the
mind’s dogged busyness, seasoned veterans usually gain at least a grudging
acceptance of the process.
“Trying…to keep our moments of love, mystery, and wonder
from going back into the unseen depth of life,” writes Nepo, “is like trying to
keep a whale from re~entering the sea once it’s breached the surface. Better to
have windows that face the sea.”
We can’t compel the sacred. We can’t demand grace. We can’t
even force a change in our own attitude. All we can do is turn to face the sea,
intending an open window, offering a heart inclined toward receptivity. We can also remind ourselves, with unflagging regularity,
that our walls are illusion. Unfathomable vastness is the enduring reality, and
it stretches to infinity…and beyond.
As we remember ourselves into this larger view, our
orientation spontaneously shifts. We recognize that the secret kingdom Nepo
refers to in the title of his article is not so very secret after all. It is simply concealed by our many and varied walls, puny
and insignificant things when seen against the backdrop of eternity.
Remembering
this, we become more inclined to let those walls come a tumblin’ down. And, as Nepo writes, “When the walls are down, the opening
is everywhere.”
Everywhere. The not~so~secret kingdom is everywhere. May we
each open to it, in whatever ways fit our disposition and our lives, now and
repeatedly throughout our days.
Leia Marie
