Day One of the thirty-one day writing challenge. Challenge is an apt description. The first thing I realized I needed was a blog. Deciding on a name for the blog was the first challenge. The blog name I wanted to use was taken. So that sent me into an hour long quest for a “new and just as clever name”. The new name I arrived at, “Mind Grains” is a suitable replacement. What I want to pursue with this blog are small grains: nuggets of observation that come from my mind or which come to mind in eventful or mundane life situations.
A favorite poem inspired me:
“To see the world in a grain of sand and
heaven in a wildflower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour” – William Blake
I discovered Blake in High School. He caused me endless days of wondering and wandering, riding my bike to the lake near our house and long hours searching for truths in waves lapping against the shore, in pondering the wonder of it all, and deep down inside, grappling with insecurities brought on by not being quite normal or popular enough. I was no ordinary teenager, but then again, I don’t imagine anyone thinks they are or were.
In college I was reminded of the quote as I studied geology, where one truly does “see the world in a grain of sand”, and time takes on new dimensions which are humbling and give one pause. “You mean to tell me that 500,000 years of time is missing between this rock unit and the next one? And it’s all encapsulated in that little crooked line?” and the wondering and wandering would begin again.
Years later when I became a mother I realized the wisdom of the “infinity in the palm of your hand”, the first grasp that little one makes on your hand is timeless and real, and feels like electricity – small life flowing from their hand to yours and back again.
When my parents grew old and passed on I became acutely aware of time, of “eternity in an hour”, the passage of time being out of ones’ control, and sickness being out of my control, just one more hour, I would pray, just one more day.
And now as I sit back with time to reflect, wander, and wonder again, I can see “heaven in a wildflower” as I sit and write, I imagine what the view will be next spring, expecting that flowers will once again bloom in a absent-minded, showy, and yet subtle fashion outside the window. Blake’s words inspire again.
Last week I was on a retreat. We were mostly beginning artists learning plein-air painting and it felt natural for me as an earth scientist to be outside documenting colors and textures in an orderly fashion again. But this trek was supposed to be spiritual. Like geology, we needed to glean facts and truths from what was right in front of us and also from what was not there. Lights and darks defined the rock units and cloud formations. The trees looked green one minute and yellow the next. Browns turned into reds and the sun mocked my attempts to capture what appeared to be a scene of natural perfection until I painted it.
Our leader read aloud Psalm 139:
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you. (ESV version)
So I pray that this blog will capture my awareness of the physical world, the ties to the spiritual world, and ultimately, inspire myself and others to see God’s creation at the macro scale: at the beach, in a mountain, in the clouds, and simultaneously at the micro scale – in a grain of sand, a tiny hand, or an absent-minded wildflower.
(lwr Oct 1, 2017)