She is a startlingly beautiful child, hair dark as night, a mass of curls above an alabaster face, eyes a blue so deep they seem almost violet. It is those eyes that best tell her story. They won’t focus on her adoptive mother’s face. In fact, they actively refuse. Whenever her mother attempts to catch her gaze, this precious child turns her head away, immediately, decisively.
At 10 months of age, this little one has had a rough time of it. Born with drugs in her system, she was cared for by a random series of her teen parents’ friends before being placed in two foster homes prior to adoption. No wonder she refuses eye contact. She doesn’t know where she belongs and hasn’t yet recognized this woman as mother for life.
And so Mom must be subtle. Catching her baby's gaze with a wiggling stuffed animal, she then brings the fuzzy bear to and from her own smiling face. Or Mom initiates a game of peekaboo. She sings from across the room, gradually moving closer until her baby signals she’s close enough. Mom does anything she can to entice her child into connection.
Fast forward to my mediation this morning. My mind was busy, busy. And when my gaze did finally come to rest on the silence opening out before me, I soon turned away, thoughts swirling once again. I knew then how similar I am to that raven~haired adoptee. I don’t break contact as quickly as she, but break it I do. It’s as if I, too, can only take so much.
What is it about opening to the Mystery that we resist? Why do we so often avert our eyes from that which brings peace, from that which might even bring us the rapture of sweet communion? We seem prone to cluttering our lives with busyness and worries, tending to fill our days with pursuits that don’t truly engage or bring a rich experience of living.
But perhaps there are games designed for us, too, experiences reaching for our attention, wishing to coax us into a more soulful relationship with life. Lines from poetry, prose and sacred texts call to us. Life crises invite us to turn our gaze to a new, more nourishing direction. Kindred spirits appear out of nowhere, and at just the right time to speak to our heart. And of course, the star~drenched night sky is always waiting to draw us from our small concerns, offering a glimpse of numinous infinity…until we turn away again.
A cosmic game of peekaboo? The idea tickles me. Rumi writes, “What you seek is seeking you,” and while I haven’t come across his use of the peekaboo metaphor, I think he would approve. And perhaps even smile.
Lullabies sing to us from across the Universe. As I type these words, I hear a melody, sweet and clear. And I look up...
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