Words from Pep
The Connection
I put
my gear into the canoe and pushed away from shore. My momentum carried me out
of the shadows into warm light. It was 4 AM
and
creation was stirring, beginning to find its voice. At this latitude the sun
had been up for half an hour singing its life giving energy into the sky.
Clouds and mountain peaks, illuminated by horizontal light, were reimaged on
the lake’s black water. Breath turned to vapor hanging beautifully before
me as I disturbed a sleepy crowd of water scooters with the first stroke of my
paddle. They followed and together we glided in virtual silence along the
surface carrying our lives out into the soon awakening chorus of a new day.
Only the soft sound of wood pulling water could be heard effortlessly moving
our little parade toward the sand bar formed near the river’s inlet. The echo
of this moving water had ushered me to sleep in the night. As we rounded the
bar, there on the beach lay a cow moose and her calf. My scooter friends and I
had startled her. Hackles were bristling, ears back. They rose and mom stepped
into the water as her gangly calf, maybe two months old, curiously peeked under
her belly. Only 25 yards apart and in shallow water, I got ready to head out
into the deep. She was ready to fight. My scooter friends and I were no match
for an 800 lb moose. Thankfully, she blew a snort through her nose and moved
sideways over a windfall. Stepping into the brush she kept her eyes focused on
the threatening intruders. Her toddler, although alerted to danger, was
overtaken with interest and stayed watching, initiating an interspecies dialog
between mom, calf, my entourage of six legged escorts and myself. Our
conversation consisted of ear twitches, a stiffening here and there of muscles,
questioning bleats. My scooters bobbed up and down sharing whatever passed
through their nano-sized brains. As the only human present I chimed in with
pleasantries about the morning followed up with flattery. A Steller Jay landed
at the bar, placed an order, and sipped from the lake. Sounding somewhat
inebriated he offering a raucous comment and left for the far shore. . . . . .
At that moment we “heard” another voice, a voice whispering in the language of
spirit. We - human, moose, scooters, all that is, is sustained by the command
of this speech. It is the voice that gives form and consciousness, the voice of
being, the voice of harmony, sustaining creation in communion. Now, having been
gracefully granted “ears to hear,” we became silent before the eternal Word as
the illusion of our otherness evaporated. This mystical “sound”, this awareness
of the oneness of reality, is there for all to “hear.”. . . . . I cannot say
how long this spiritual union lasted, this high state of pure being. A breeze
began tugging at the bow and as my physical senses imposed their control I
moved the paddle into the water for stability. Still, I was overcome with peace
beyond understanding as we parted ways. Gliding over the reflection of the
world I knew the echoes of this place would stay with me forever.
--
ONE WORLD - ONE FAMILY OF MAN - ONE CREATOR OF ALL
ONE WORLD - ONE FAMILY OF MAN - ONE CREATOR OF ALL
