Don't believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitations. Look with your understanding (your heart-eyes). Find out what you already know and you will see the way to fly. Richard Bach
Several days ago I was talking on the phone with a friend while looking over my deck onto the trees below. A half leaf in sunlight caught my attention. The other leaves seemed shadowed. My eyes wandered beyond the translucent green to the lake and then, wandered back. There it was, one little patch of green dancing in the sunny-breeze. As my friend talked, I watched its play of movement. Surprisingly, a small "hum" began in my chest, a feeling of warmth. And against my logic, a thought -- is this lighted-leaf loving me?
I want to soak it in. I must remember this location, this feeling that has just visited me. Witnessing imprints. Before hanging up, I share my leaf experience. She graciously realizes our conversation did not have my full attention.
An hour later, going to the store, I check the odd time to see if the leaf-feeling is surviving. It is. Coming out of the store, a sun spot (bright and sparkly as they are) catches my eye on the next car to mine. And, yes, it is caring for me! As I walk the car's length the sparkle seems to keep pace, shoulder to shoulder. I giggle. Playing, somewhat like a child with her shadow, I back up a bit and there it is again, emitting that leaf-feeling.
The wise ones of this earth tell us we are one with everything. We are not separate, not a label any more than a leaf is. "Don't believe what your eyes are telling you. All they show is limitations." We merely have named it a "leaf" but is it really? Maybe, it is pulsating, caring life that is "written off" by calling it something. Science and new technology is showing us that nature responds to us, to our feelings, words and music. I am reminded again of my daughter's dream of seeing the sparkles on the water that said, as if amused, "You think I am only sparkles" and of course, I did. Even my ancient friend, when I would refer to the "breeze coming up" would look kindly and muse, "And you think it is only wind?" and, of course, I did.
The experience is beginning to fade. Now when I look down off the deck into those countless leaves I can, at least, remember and feel that one of those leaves has loved me actively -- not in theory, but for real. Might that mean they all are loving me back? Is the leaf saying (in leaf-language), "I have been waiting for you to wake up from your illusion of separateness." Now maybe, I will be able to leap frog this human logic and again, feel loved by half a leaf. And are we not, one pulsing-heart -- vaster and as unending as the sky?
photo source: L. Teryl