[Below is the piece I wrote for the very first edition of the Journal of Sacred Work. I hope it will encourage you to search other previous essays as I take some days of vacation with family. – Erie]
A Mountain Lake Experience
Consider
the difficulty of looking at a painting like Turner’s Lake of Zug
(viewable by entering in Google the phrase: "William Turner, Lake of
Zug.") The first question in the mind of the average westerner is: What
is it? The obvious answer comes – mountains, a lake, people. Now the
heartbreaking part: Art museum studies show that the average viewer
spends about seven seconds in front of a great art work. How hard it is
to appreciate the gift of beauty in seven seconds.
What
kinds of noise circle about you now? How is your attention, your
presence to the deepest needs of others, your ability to hear the music
of your own soul?
The
forces of the world – schedules, agendas, lists – yank us from our
center and toss us about so that we may feel like flotsam riding ocean
cross-currents. Radios play, televisions sell their messages, e-mail
asks for answers, cell phones shout, video games dance. Each calls like
a siren for our attention. Your own thoughts may shout louder than all
the other noise so that you are frightened to take the minutes of
silent meditation your soul needs to help you thrive in this world.
Caught
in the swirl, it is no wonder that America’s caregivers, beeped at,
paged, blinked at by call lights, may lose touch with the core of their
calling – to care for those in need, to offer healing, to be present to
pain and joy – to be present to real light instead of its electric
imitations.
Competing
demands dilute our ability to heal with love. They interfere with our
capacity to appreciate the beauty around us and to live our love.
Early
caregivers understood the power of presence – the need to be heard and
to be loved. Those who cultivate presence in long interactions are also
more effective at being present in brief encounters. The practice of
meditation is the exercise most likely to further our ability to be
present to others. It is a gift we give ourselves and, in turn, becomes
a gift we give to others.
Presence Meditation: Take
a full minute with this lovely work, a painting by the mid-nineteenth
century artist, William Turner. It is called The Lake of Zug – 1843.
See how adding fifty-three seconds to the first seven affects your
appreciation.
Poetry Meditation: Here
is a brief meditation I wrote after looking at Turner’s Lake of Zug for
a minute that was full and rich and peaceful for me.
Turner’s Lake
Outside me, three tree branches dance above bunches of nervous cars
driven
by blank-faces waiting for red to go green, tires to turn, the radio to
play the next song. Back within, I sit, close my eyes, open
my
heart’s door. It’s time to visit an Alpine lake the way Turner
watercolored one in 1843’s summer. The elbow of the steep blue mountain
blocks the sun’s effort
to
define itself. What light there is hazes the lake below. In the left
distance, two men boat. In the right foreground, children
rock-scramble. In the lower
left,
two inch-high women thigh-deep the lake, wash clothes they aren’t
wearing, air their skin near brown rocks & blue water. Near the
dying man
I will care for today, others edge to the end of their earthly
visit. Today, I will take my patient’s hand, listen to his pictures. When he falls asleep,
I will stay awhile, pour out a blue lake, arrange some rocks around it.
Nearby, mountain peaks will pierce the sky, children play, women wash clothes &
two men will sway in a wooden boat that will never reach the shore.
A Gift For You:
What
do you see in the painting now? How do you feel? Pick a painting or
photograph of your own choice and give it to yourself as a gift to
guide a personal meditation. Spend time with it – one minute, five
minutes, twenty minutes. Then put it in one of your heart’s pockets and
carry it with you across the day. This gift will become a present for
all those around you.
Journal of Sacred Work 
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