Blog 50 A Sacred Object (Gary)

My mother before she died would often say, "What does it matter?”  In her depression, nearing the end of her life in convalescent care, she gave up.  I now understand what she said at a different level.  I see the value not of giving up but of surrendering to what is.  I like the Alcoholics Anonymous saying, "Let go; let God."  She could have been at peace by letting go, but instead she was angry and bitter that she wasn't getting what she wanted and that her life was over.  The point is it doesn't matter.  Nothing really matters unless you make it matter.  In a sense she was right.  Even then there are often times when you do so much better by surrendering and letting go.  Just like it is on The Hill.  Some days I just have to surrender to the heat, the rain, or the fog, and I love it.

            Since the fire trail has been graded recently there is little if any glass or garbage to pick up.  I consider it my duty to keep this trail pristine.  It's a sacred trail, and needs to be respected.  Yet there are years of broken pieces of glass that litter the way.  I will say much of it is gone, thanks to me.  To me it breaks the spell to find a shard of green glass sticking up from the ground where there has been peace.  Peace: that is a good word to describe this for me.

            I now connect the dots.  The Hill has become another sacred object, like the ducklings I loved and cared for with my aunt, and like my uncle’s hat.  They all have given my life a sense of stability and meaning:  a true grounding. 

            What grounds you to or in right action?  Without something to ground you, you will spin, moving as fast as you can.  Thus is born the “Addiction to Hurry” (Jones, 2003).

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