A New Year. New Resolutions. New Alterations. A Time To Bloom.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.”
~Some of the most quoted words of the Bible are from the Book of Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3, verses 1-8
Reading from Unity:
This sacred list from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 represents all the seasons and the important changes of our lives. Some are happy times, others sad; some are productive while others seem wasteful; some inspire peace and others bring pain.
All of them are necessary for us to learn, grow, and evolve as spiritual beings. Their appearance is not by accident. If we look closely enough, each experience reveals a loving, divine purpose that we can learn to trust.
You can read about the lessons of these verses here.
A few days ago, the day Susan and I got our second Shingles shot, we came home and moved all the furniture in our living room to put down a new rug.
The next day we were both sore–not our arms where the Shingles shot was given, but our legs, back, neck, and, yes, our rear. A few days later, our arms hurt and continued to hurt, from the Shingles shot.
But the shot and the moving of furniture was well worth it. Just look at how beautiful the living room is.
“No matter how awful things are, whether it’s individual illness or loss, systemic racism or environmental destruction, we can always evolve and grow. This evolution requires a complete transformation of our sense of self and, therefore, possibility. It is the product of a willingness to do more than simply rail against what’s wrong and then try to change things by “making them better.”
“Fundamentally, what is needed is a profound (r)evolution of consciousness. We must evolve beyond thinking of ourselves as merely human, and therefore victims of outer circumstances, to embodying the truth of the indwelling Presence of Spirit. This (r)evolution is the transformation of our identity from human beings who are striving to be spiritual to, as Pierre De Chardin says, “spiritual beings having a human experience.”
“This (r)evolution becomes the solid ground from which we make things better because we know and trust that all of life is evolving and progressing toward greater self-expression. This allows us to speak boldly, act confidently and expect cheerfully that humanity is, in fact, able, capable and designed to create better lives and a better world. Progress and evolution that out-pictures Life is inevitable, despite the manifestations of ignorance and destruction. As spiritual beings, we seize every opportunity to engage in transforming awful situations from a positive conviction that humanity is guided by Intelligence and impelled by Love to evolve and grow.
“Affirmation: Life is always for more and greater self-expression. I trust in the creative impulse and infinite intelligence that is constantly causing a (r)evolution in the consciousness of humanity.”
Autumn. A season of transformation. The days grow shorter and colder. The remaining leaves in the trees are pumpkin-colored and soon will fall to the ground. Life IS evolving. I AM evolving.
Self Portrait. November 4. “Antonio Barone” catalog. No relation to me–as far as I know. Born in Sicily. Studied with William Merritt Chase at the Chase School in NYC, which later became Parsons School of Design. Worked in NYC and California. Catalog from Barridoff Galleries in Portland, Maine. Barone painted portraits, landscapes, still lifes. Here we also see Antonio’s self portrait.
In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.
~ Mary Oliver, Song for Autumn