human beings are built to rise—like the spring grass, growing up and up no matter what threatens to stop us. And perhaps more fortunate even than our being made to rise, is the Presence within us and all around us that shows us the way--that inspires and nudges us along.

Sometimes during the day I'll simply stop. The stil

Even after all this time, as new grass appears in the spring, I find it utterly miraculous. Again and again it rises from its whittled-down state, despite bouts of lawn-mowing so persistent you would think the grass would finally give up and quit. And yet it doesn't. It keeps growing. And I'm so grateful that my son didn't give up on me when I was inept at (respectively) feeding him, teaching him to ride a bike, and helping him understand the difficulties inherent in true friendship. We keep showing up and growing up. It's what we do. If we were any better at it, we'd all be giants. But size isn't what's important. How tall we grow, or how large a space we occupy in our community circle, or how much clout we carry in the world at large. What's important is that we keep going.

Many spiritual students and people of deep faith find courage where they least expect it. I found it in my back, during a year of intense pain. I found it in a car accident, when my hatchback hit a van carrying a sick young man, and much more than a mere insurance payment--a call of apology and an offer to be of service—was required. Fortunately, my back healed and the young man in the car was not seriously injured due to the moment of inattention that caused my car to collide into his. We do rise to such occasions because human beings are built to rise—like the spring grass, growing up and up no matter what threatens to stop us. And perhaps more fortunate even than our being made to rise, is the Presence within us and all around us that shows us the way--that inspires and nudges us along.

Sometimes during the day I'll simply stop. The still

up on me when I was inept at (respectively) feeding him, teaching him to ride a bike, and helping him understand the difficulties inherent in true friendship. We keep showing up and growing up. It's what we do. If we were any better at it, we'd all be giants. But size isn't what's important. How tall we grow, or how large a space we occupy in our community circle, or how much clout we carry in the world at large. What's important is that we keep going.

Many spiritual students and people of deep faith find courage where they least expect it. I found it in my back, during a year of intense pain. I found it in a car accident, when my hatchback hit a van carrying a sick young man, and much more than a mere insurance payment--a call of apology and an offer to be of service—was required. Fortunately, my back healed and the young man in the car was not seriously injured due to the moment of inattention that caused my car to collide into his. We do rise to such occasions because human beings are built to rise—like the spring grass, growing up and up no matter what threatens to stop us. And perhaps more fortunate even than our being made to rise, is the Presence within us and all around us that shows us the way--that inspires and nudges us along.

Sometimes during the day I'll simply stop. The stil

ce we occupy in our community circle, or how much clout we carry in the world at large. What's important is that we keep going.

Many spiritual students and people of deep faith find courage where they least expect it. I found it in my back, during a year of intense pain. I found it in a car accident, when my hatchback hit a van carrying a sick young man, and much more than a mere insurance payment--a call of apology and an offer to be of service—was required. Fortunately, my back healed and the young man in the car was not seriously injured due to the moment of inattention that caused my car to collide into his. We do rise to such occasions because human beings are built to rise—like the spring grass, growing up and up no matter what threatens to stop us. And perhaps more fortunate even than our being made to rise, is the Presence within us and all around us that shows us the way--that inspires and nudges us along.

Sometimes during the day I'll simply stop. The stil

van carrying a sick young man, and much more than a mere insurance payment--a call of apology and an offer to be of service—was required. Fortunately, my back healed and the young man in the car was not seriously injured due to the moment of inattention that caused my car to collide into his. We do rise to such occasions because human beings are built to rise—like the spring grass, growing up and up no matter what threatens to stop us. And perhaps more fortunate even than our being made to rise, is the Presence within us and all around us that shows us the way--that inspires and nudges us along.

Sometimes during the day I'll simply stop. The stil

human beings are built to rise—like the spring grass, growing up and up no matter what threatens to stop us. And perhaps more fortunate even than our being made to rise, is the Presence within us and all around us that shows us the way--that inspires and nudges us along.

Sometimes during the day I'll simply stop. The stillness inside me meets the noise outside me. And in that moment I am grateful to be in this body and this world, doing this growing thing. Because it's miraculous. It isn't the sort of miracle that gets anyone canonized as a saint, but maybe it's even better than that. Because this miracle—the miracle of Awareness, of that still point of attention which will open up and reveal that Presence to me, if I let it—is available all the time, every day of this gift of life. So Thank You, I say. Thank you for this miraculous minute!