After going for a long walk this morning, I went to rest at one of my favorite places near the pond, across the street from my house. Right as I sat down an enormous, great blue heron lifted gracefully up from the still water.
Holding my breath, I watched it fly, slow and majestic, higher and higher into the sky. It was so beautiful and so magical, I was deeply moved. As it started to fly further and further away from me I found myself desperately praying for it to come back.
The moment I began to do that, I had to smile. The feeling was so familiar. This is exactly what happens when I get those oh so brief glimpses of awakening. When I have even the smallest moment of remembering, of seeing and feeling beyond the veil, I often try like crazy to hold on to that feeling and make it last forever. Then just as quickly as it arrived, it slips away.
Today, I finally stopped wishing that the Heron would come back and I let myself soften into a state of bittersweet gratitude that I was blessed to see it at all.