A morning walk at nearby Walden Ponds caught this late-in-the-season blade of grass waving alone in front of the greenery around one of the ponds. It reminded me of how many ways I have felt as if I was out in front. Good ways, yes--among the first to have visible professional positions in a man's world in the 60s, 80s, and even in the 90s. Those opportunities were exciting--and yes, often stressful. I was visible, an easy target.
I live in a condo complex with lots of other people. Yet I don't have neighbors as such. It's been years since I had neighbors of the kind where it would be easy to borrow an egg or a cup of flour (do we even do that now?).
Last night at our meditation group (centering prayer) one spoke of being alone, even in a crowd. Others agreed. Yet we are aware that the Divine Presence is always with us. Being present to the Presence can become a positive habit. Not all believe this Presence exists, but my experience knows that it does--and that if I am aware, that I may be lonely, but I am not alone.
I resonate to the grass that's blowing in the wind, bending, but not broken. Yellow, but not dead. Standing in front, exactly in the spot it calls home. I'm older than most. I don't have the vital coloring of the young. I know that it's okay to stand in front. My feet are firmly planted. I'm at home wherever I am.
"He drew me up. . .out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure." Psalm 40, Vs 2.
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