Underneath It All
Supported.
Sitting on my cushion, I am held up exactly as strongly as I am down pressed. I can feel you, Lord, lifting me up where I could sink. Balance.
The door I am trying to open, is there the same equality of forces? Does it hold to itself, while I pull, so that it does not fly open?
I worry about sinking as I walk the meadow, yet you lift me up and keep my feet on this broad path.
❖
You, your arms, underneath it all: lifting up, even as I am pressed down.
– from the mountain
Consider:
Can I feel where I am supported, even by the world?
Reading:
“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.”
— Hafiz
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