I listen to the birds outside my window. It is almost Christmas, there are several inches of snow on the ground, and those birds are still here. Still chirping away. And I wonder. What kind are they? What keeps them here? How do they survive?
As I've gotten older I'm afraid I've lost much of my ability to wonder. Things just don't amaze me like they have in the past. Is it age? Is it depression? Who knows.
But there are still moments. Moments when time stands still.
When I hold a sleeping newborn. I look at this being. I behold this creature. And I am filled with awe. I gaze lovingly. I glory in its magnificence. I am overwhelmed by its very being.
I sit on my porch at midnight on a summer evening. All is quiet. Except for nature. Nature composes the most incredible symphonies. And she plays them in the dark of night. The crickets. The wind. Leaves rustling. An owl. And the stillness. The stillness is a player in the orchestra. The stars play their chords. It is breathtaking.
A moment of clarity. In a room full of people. During a busy day. All has been rushed. Then something clicks. A look. A word. A phrase. A thought. All is made clear in my mind in that moment and I am awash in peace. Clarity. Calm.
These are the moments when I know I am more. We are more. More than we can possibly understand.