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  • Writer's pictureAnnelisa MacBean

The Harvest

I am walking more in the early mornings now. Today appears to be another ordinary Wednesday, on the face of it. Summer and Fall are in a dialogue about how it will go from here. As I wander along the trails, I sense my body bridging between heaven and earth, and for a moment I know how little I know about this existence. I am listening for a whisper from the birds and falling leaves, the orange, the yellow and the red; what does Divine want of me, want for me, want through me, as it makes its way into this world of time and space, into this body, into this moment. I notice I have the expectation that I will make it all the way through this day and will have again a tomorrow, a chance to listen, in awe, to what the leaves and birds and ocean are saying to me, without saying a word. But if I somehow don’t make it, I am left with a deep and quiet gratitude to have been graced with even a tiny moment of Love. I have been given so much this morning. In this early morning on the Northern California coast – the Fall is arriving. I can sense that something is preparing to emerge, to express its qualities in my awareness. It is miraculous, truly, to witness Love emerging through the senses of this body, as pure feeling, as these colors, as this imagination, all laid out as a Supreme feast. I know I am momentarily in union with Divine, a merging that brings me to my knees, to the ground. I am compelled to a state of humility knowing that the vast and infinite activity of Love is never going to complete. In the wonder of this coastal morning I am able to see the movement of spirit within matter, to know the holiness of this body and the holiness of oneness. To be here in this world is a miracle. I am awake in the coastal breeze to the fact that I (and we) have been given the primary materials to make the journey. I have a heart to feel, arms to reach out and hold another, words to speak kindness, eyes to look into the depths and ears to hear the song of the Supreme.

Listening closely, I am called to participate in the harvest that is this life, to receive the creative bounty of Love as it emerges out of the unknown, transforming Summer and taking shape as the miracle of Autumn.

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