Journal of Sacred Work

Note: The following Guest Meditation was written by Karen York, a Vice President with Alive Hospice in Nashville, Tennessee.

   In a world that pushes us from task to task, from list to
list, from red-light to red-light, how do we prevent ourselves from being
lulled into the mundane. What do you see on your way into work? Most of us take the same route day after
monotonous day. When was the last time you took notice of the
extraordinary? The life that exists just
beyond our windshield is rich with complexity and grace. I began jotting down some things that I have
observed on a 3-block stretch of road on my journey to work. I imagine what might be happening behind what
I am seeing and offer this to you today:

…

   It must be Tuesday. People are lined up outside the plasma bank, waiting for the doors to
open early, desperate for a few dollars so they can walk next door to the wine
store where Fat Bastard Chardonnay is on sale for $8.99. Beside the small catering shop with the
6-tiered birthday cake behind plate glass and plywood, is the Hustler Hollywood
extravaganza offering sweets of a different kind. “Relax, It’s Just Sex,” boldly posted inside, diverts attention from
the black and pink-laced bustier displayed on the window mannequin.
 Resting between these two buildings is a parking lot
corralled with chain-link and razor-wire grimacing at anyone who would dare
steal a car from inside. A woman emerged from that lot this morning and headed across the
street to Nature’s DeLite Farms. Maybe that’s the safest place to park for
those who pasteurize milk inside a stone building with opaque glass windows,
clouding their view of daylight and would-be thieves.
   A blue balloon square dances across the wine store parking
lot, swirls and twirls with no forethought of destination. I think of the boy
from whose grasp it slipped as he skipped down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with
his mother, happy with his new balloon, then cried when the wind stole it away. Moments
later, the balloon skidded into blades of grass and burst on contact. I am glad
he didn’t see that.
   Stationed in front of the Bank of America is the Loomis
armored car its armed guard calculates. I imagine he calculates value by the heft of each sack and wonders why he is paid
only a small fraction of just one bag to risk his life for its safety. Nearby on the bus bench, a homeless man
rests, oblivious of the clatter of the BMW and the bus that drive past. He
makes brief eye contact with the Loomis man, each distrusting the other, both coveting the contents of the sacks. The homeless man closes his eyes.
    Behind an 8-foot barred fence sits an elegantly groomed
garden and walking path. Tender care is given to this refuge amid the hard
concrete and brick. It is a place wehre employees of the attached office furniture
store and car dealership will take their breaks away from phones and screens. I
have never observed one person in this lovely place and wish the man on the
bench breathing in bus fumes could scale the fence to lie in the cool soft
grass.
 A scrubs-clad, telephoned woman loudly sorts out the remainder
of the day’s schedule with her partner deciding who will pick up their child from
day-care. She carries a small igloo cooler and heads into a building of shops
and restaurants. Inside the cooler, I imagine not a ham sandwich on rye, but a
vital organ being transported from patient to patient as she stops to buy a
book and croissant from Borders. Maybe the carrying of life in her
hands has become so mundane that she no longer senses her sacred package and
the simultaneous grief and hope that lie within her grasp. 
   What treasures are out there for you to grasp on your way
from here to there? Paying attention to
our surroundings and imagining what is happening, are practices of presence. They
pave the way for our souls to be open to the ecstatic experiences that can bring
our hearts alive. 
   I encourage you to see the unseen today and find some magic. It’s
just beyond your windshield.