The Shelter on a Universal Spirit Path
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Thank you for asking us in this edition of Pangaea Revisited to reflect upon what ‘shelter’ may mean from within our various Traditions and life existences. As if one lying beside the waters at the Pool of Shiloah where “troubled waters” were the sign that a time of healing was present, thinking about what ‘shelter’ has meant and may still mean to me in this time of apparently troubled waters will I hope bring another time of opportunity of healing to us all. Shelter…shelter?…Shelter…a place of safety? A place of stability? A place to nurture and be nurtured? An inner and outer experience of constancy…of the Divine within and the Divine Oneness? Found, created? Embraced, shared?
Perhaps, ‘shelter’ is a hidden wondrously raw cave in the Negev, or stories told of a tent with one flap of welcome always opened, a crowded downtown Rescue Mission cot on a bitter cold night, or the warming words of a shared Creed, loyalty to a flag, the encircling embrace of the arms of a loved one, the aromas of Thanksgiving meals, or the bubbling words of fountains of Faith mixed with the clay of daily living? Or wafting memories of Grandmother’s powder-puffed elegance and twinkling love, more precious than handfuls of diamonds, or a distant Father’s sonorous voice, or Mother’s solidarity and the privilege of unique siblings and rare friends and their gifts of ‘family’? Another’s determined, almost delirious, commitment to ‘future’? The commingling of centuries of blood-filled dust and ragged sandled feet dancing blessings of hope and yearnings for peace in the early morning stillness of the Judean wilderness? Of joy-filled tears of thanks washing the ancient floors of the monastery cloister, one more time, for the privilege of being?
Perhaps, ‘shelter’ is the chrome-shining Emergency Room bed accepting a ‘derelict’ without insurance? A puppy adopted from the night terrors of being abandoned by a freeway roadside? A door opened at 3am by the kindness of a neighbor in the midst of a drug-soaked urban ‘gangland’ to a child still dazed, in pajamas, awaking from sleepwalking away from the all too real nightmares of an abusive state-placed ‘home’? Foxes running as escorts through the cathedral forests of the midnight alps? The gift of the only personal possession of a Berber boy, his profound sign of his own dignity and thanks for understood shelter within the unshakable knowledge of basic respect offered and received? Years of ‘miracles’? Of time and space both ignited and delighted by the inexhaustible and quite awesome Divine shelters in one’s own personal life experience of mind, body and soul…of each human, of all humanity and of all life?…and of the Great Oneness.
Perhaps it is already too late for the dwarf elephant; but what of the polar ice caps? What of the newborn in Darfur? What of the ‘shelter’ for this planet and for each expression of life on and within it? Battered by the bracing winds of insecurity, stripped naked within the cyclone of ‘hopelessness’ experienced by millions, and one at a time, whether in Goma, Jackson Hole, or Tangiers…apparently well past the point of even feeling the buffeting of the turbulence of fear, inert now too often within fragile layers of cocoons of sub-survival, gasping for moment-to-moments of seemingly illusive and finite droplets of life force…what when people are fleeing by the millions from civil war, environmental deterioration, and the humiliating horrors of fiscal foreclosures even among the expectedly ‘stable’ middle class of developed nations…even their most basic forms of ‘shelter’ being stripped? How and where can shelter be maintained and the strength found to unbend from the weight of hate and fear to again take up our tools to be co-builders of ‘shelter’ for ourselves and each other?
Perhaps, one might ask, is it not in the whirling of the dervish in praise and sublime surrender to the One whose shelter is eternal? Is it not the silent emersion into the waters of infinite re-birth in the mikvah or font? What of Habitat for Humanity, or the courage to step across the 52 and seek real Change within the communities of both ‘sides’, or the global struggles of the High Commissioner for Human Rights…for Refugees? Is one not reminded each day of the profound capacity for shelter, for stability in change fulfilling ancient promises which is brought even on cloud-filled nights by the ancient, lingering starlight gently nudging forward the re-birth of the first shy rays of the our star’s sunlight into our new morning’s consciousness? Or is it within the mustard seeds resting near the gentle flicker of the honey-touched candle honoring the ancestors which is casting its light onto the keys of this computer? Or is it to be found in the Soul Sound of Peace resonating soon from the Zen monk’s singing bowl? Whatever the form…I am most grateful for it and thank the ceaseless One, the ceaseless Love that is the Creator and sustainer of shelter…and perhaps really without need for greater description…is Shelter.
May we all know Shelter and may the peace that it brings give hope and harmony to us all. Thank you, again, for this opportunity to share some thoughts.
Perhaps, ‘shelter’ is a hidden wondrously raw cave in the Negev, or stories told of a tent with one flap of welcome always opened, a crowded downtown Rescue Mission cot on a bitter cold night, or the warming words of a shared Creed, loyalty to a flag, the encircling embrace of the arms of a loved one, the aromas of Thanksgiving meals, or the bubbling words of fountains of Faith mixed with the clay of daily living? Or wafting memories of Grandmother’s powder-puffed elegance and twinkling love, more precious than handfuls of diamonds, or a distant Father’s sonorous voice, or Mother’s solidarity and the privilege of unique siblings and rare friends and their gifts of ‘family’? Another’s determined, almost delirious, commitment to ‘future’? The commingling of centuries of blood-filled dust and ragged sandled feet dancing blessings of hope and yearnings for peace in the early morning stillness of the Judean wilderness? Of joy-filled tears of thanks washing the ancient floors of the monastery cloister, one more time, for the privilege of being?
Perhaps, ‘shelter’ is the chrome-shining Emergency Room bed accepting a ‘derelict’ without insurance? A puppy adopted from the night terrors of being abandoned by a freeway roadside? A door opened at 3am by the kindness of a neighbor in the midst of a drug-soaked urban ‘gangland’ to a child still dazed, in pajamas, awaking from sleepwalking away from the all too real nightmares of an abusive state-placed ‘home’? Foxes running as escorts through the cathedral forests of the midnight alps? The gift of the only personal possession of a Berber boy, his profound sign of his own dignity and thanks for understood shelter within the unshakable knowledge of basic respect offered and received? Years of ‘miracles’? Of time and space both ignited and delighted by the inexhaustible and quite awesome Divine shelters in one’s own personal life experience of mind, body and soul…of each human, of all humanity and of all life?…and of the Great Oneness.
Perhaps it is already too late for the dwarf elephant; but what of the polar ice caps? What of the newborn in Darfur? What of the ‘shelter’ for this planet and for each expression of life on and within it? Battered by the bracing winds of insecurity, stripped naked within the cyclone of ‘hopelessness’ experienced by millions, and one at a time, whether in Goma, Jackson Hole, or Tangiers…apparently well past the point of even feeling the buffeting of the turbulence of fear, inert now too often within fragile layers of cocoons of sub-survival, gasping for moment-to-moments of seemingly illusive and finite droplets of life force…what when people are fleeing by the millions from civil war, environmental deterioration, and the humiliating horrors of fiscal foreclosures even among the expectedly ‘stable’ middle class of developed nations…even their most basic forms of ‘shelter’ being stripped? How and where can shelter be maintained and the strength found to unbend from the weight of hate and fear to again take up our tools to be co-builders of ‘shelter’ for ourselves and each other?
Perhaps, one might ask, is it not in the whirling of the dervish in praise and sublime surrender to the One whose shelter is eternal? Is it not the silent emersion into the waters of infinite re-birth in the mikvah or font? What of Habitat for Humanity, or the courage to step across the 52 and seek real Change within the communities of both ‘sides’, or the global struggles of the High Commissioner for Human Rights…for Refugees? Is one not reminded each day of the profound capacity for shelter, for stability in change fulfilling ancient promises which is brought even on cloud-filled nights by the ancient, lingering starlight gently nudging forward the re-birth of the first shy rays of the our star’s sunlight into our new morning’s consciousness? Or is it within the mustard seeds resting near the gentle flicker of the honey-touched candle honoring the ancestors which is casting its light onto the keys of this computer? Or is it to be found in the Soul Sound of Peace resonating soon from the Zen monk’s singing bowl? Whatever the form…I am most grateful for it and thank the ceaseless One, the ceaseless Love that is the Creator and sustainer of shelter…and perhaps really without need for greater description…is Shelter.
May we all know Shelter and may the peace that it brings give hope and harmony to us all. Thank you, again, for this opportunity to share some thoughts.
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