This Flowing Towards Me Has Never Stopped

Suggested Scripture: Habakkuk 3:12-18

For sixty years I have been forgetful,
every minute, but not for a second
has this flowing toward me stopped or slowed.1
                       
Does it seem that way for you?
Even though you’ve been forgetful?
I’ve found it to be so.

The sun keep shining on me,
even though I get forgetful of the wonder of it,
the blessing of it.
The air sustains me, whether I notice it or not.
Music surrounds me.
Someone forgives me.
Colors delight me all day long.
And the library has not yet run out of books.
This flowing towards me has never stopped.

Does it seem that way for you, too?

Like Rumi, the 13th century Persian poet and Sufi mystic,
most every minute I have been forgetful.
But sometimes I do notice this flowing toward me,
and then I experience gratitude.

I have come to appreciate gratitude.
It does a lot for me.
Gratitude can move me from arrogance to humility.
Arrogance is when I think I’ve done something so great that the world owes me.
Humility is when I remember that everything I am, have or do happens
only because of those who came before me.

I find gratitude to be a remedy for entitlement.
There isn’t much I have a right to, really.
It is all gift.

Gratitude reminds me that I belong.
I am so interconnected.
Someone does a favor for me, or I for them.
We are suddenly connected.
I love a piece of music,
and I am connected to the composer and the performer and the people who invented CDs.
I eat,
and I am connected to the plant or animal that offered itself for me,
and the farmer and the delivery truck driver and the checkout clerk
and the people who wish they had a fraction of the food I have.
I am connected.

Here’s a little spiritual practice I like. Maybe you might to try it this week.

Every day, say thanks to someone who is not expecting you to.
Have you ever said thanks to the folk who pick up your garbage?
How about, on your next birthday, sending flowers and a thank you note to your mother?
Have you ever said thank you to the kids in your life, because they make you laugh?
Every day, say thanks to someone who is not expecting you to.

Every day, thank God for something you have never thanked God for before.
If you are already in the habit of thanking God a lot, this one can get challenging.
I’ve given thanks for the people who plan the highway signs that tell me how to get
            where I’m going.
It becomes a game, a little contest to perk my days:
can I think of something I haven’t said thanks for before?
Every day, a thank you that you have never offered before.

Every day, thank God for something you’re not happy about.
Of course, this is the hard one,
and the one that comes closest to the heart of the spiritual life.
Do you remember Habakkuk’s words:
Even if the fig tree does not blossom,
and no fruit is on the vine,
even if the olive crop fail
and the fields yield no food;
even if the sheep all die a
nd the cattle stalls are empty,
I will still rejoice and be glad.

I remember once being in the midst of a great and painful struggle.
I kept thanking God for sustaining me, for giving me strength.
All of a sudden one day I knew I wanted to thank God for the struggle itself.
It had brought about so much growth.
I was a different person because of the struggle, a person I liked better.
Although I hated the crises I was in,
and would never have wished for it,
it was the struggle itself that I was thankful for,
not just God’s help in surviving it.

This flowing towards me has never stopped.

It brings so much joy to live out of gratitude.

Days cannot be hoarded,
nor people either.
Joys cannot be stored up, but only experienced now.
Life is vulnerable
and we will not hang unto the good things by clutching and grabbing at them,
or by running faster after them,
but only by taking them in fully as they come,
precious moment by precious moment.

Neither the nightly news
nor grief nor disease nor rejection
nor worries nor tension
can steal from us what we refuse to give up:
our right to experience life as a precious, cherished gift.

Sometimes I am very grateful, and sometimes I forget to be.
Sometimes I stand in awe of the gifts given, and sometimes I take things for granted.
Sometimes I give back, generously, and sometimes I clutch and grasp and hoard.

And in each of those times, you know what?
This flowing toward me has never stopped.
Not even for a second.

• Rumi. The Essential Rumi. Coleman Barks with John Moyne. page 98

Thanks be to God.                                                                   ©2003 Janice Jean Springer