Welcome to Tuesday and our feature on nature as a window into the divine with a reflection based on the writing of Carl Safina, this time from the concluding paragraph of Becoming Wild.
The Sarum Prayer
God be in my head—and in my understanding
God be in my eyes—and in my looking
God be in my mouth—and in my speaking
God be in my heart—and in my thinking
God be at my end—and at my departing
Wisdom of Jesus Portion
Luke 5: 1–11
Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken, and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
Reflection Based on Becoming Wild
Beautiful books have beautiful endings, like the final sentences in Becoming Wild, by Carl Safina, who first sets the scene with these words, “Deep in Sonso territory,” at a “picturesque rock-rimmed pool of water. Ten or so chimpanzees repose in nearby shadows, dark shapes in dark shade.” The author names two pairs, Irene with her infant, Ishe, and Muhumuza, with his mother, Melissa. These mothers and their children are companions of Simon, a 25-year-old chimpanzee introduced at the beginning of this final chapter, playing with Muhumuza, in a scene you just have to read for yourself on page 317. But in the book’s final scene, the author takes in his surroundings, the ten chimpanzees around the rock-rimmed pool of water, by first lowering himself to the ground, as he says it, “placing my knuckles where innumerable chimps over incalculable time have placed theirs.”
One senses the humility of one who observes and listens, the posture of a student, a disciple of a great guru, Mother Nature. Then Safina muses on the likeness between chimpanzees and humans—how we both live in peace with our neighbors most of the time, but with more conflict, more moments of violent aggression than some other species, notably sperm whales, bonobos, elephants. He writes, “But chimpanzees are who they are. And we are what we are. We all have our limitations and our superlatives.” The chimpanzees are doing their best, Safina infers, but wonders if we are. Could we do better than we do?
And then those concluding nine sentences:
When the resting is finished and the chimpanzees begin flitting away, everyone goes to the right except Simon. He gazes down the trail in the direction his comrades have gone. Then he walks in the opposite direction, marching to his own drum, alone. He picks up his pace. He calls. Being alone, he’s a bit nervous. No backup if there’s trouble. He continues, south, south, south. He’s going somewhere, to someone he has in mind. (p. 324)
In my chosen spiritual tradition, someone named Simon, near a pool of water, took the posture of a student, a disciple, following the beat of a different drum, one that appealed to him. So Safina’s image has great resonance with me. This last paragraph, this ending affected me—I like this posture the author has assumed throughout this book, becoming a student of the world in which he finds himself immersed, a world not of his own invention, but one of his own interpretation, a world he must make meaning out of, so he stoops down to observe, to watch with intelligence, and to listen. In hopes of doing better. Without thinking, when I first read this final paragraph, I did something I haven’t done with a book before: flipped back to page 1 and started reading it all over again. To listen better a second time.
Meditation: Sounds of the Rainforest
For our meditation, as you listen to the sounds of the rainforest in the background, place your focus on the chest, where the heart resides. Imagine the heart throbbing with the same quality of life that animates the rainforest. The world around us is pulsing with life, can we find its rhythm and follow along? Imagine this animating power alive in the rainforest as an orb of light encompassing your heart, inclining your heart to love yourself and to love your loved ones and to listen to the world around you. Then imagine the orb of light expanding until it encompasses your entire body, the room in which you find yourself today, and beyond as far as you can imagine. Or if you prefer, just listen to the birds.
Prayer to the Spirit
Fire of the Spirit, life of the lives of creatures,
spiral of sanctity, bond of all natures,
glow of charity, lights of clarity, taste
of sweetness to sinners, be with us and hear us.
—Hildegard of Bingen, 12th century nun, writer, composer, mystic, visionary, polymath, regarded by many as a founder of scientific natural history in Europe.
Prayer for Loved Ones
Over the next minute simply call to mind your loved ones (of any species, plants included) lifting them in the embrace of remembered love, to the Source of All Being.
Serenity Prayer
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.
Benediction
So have a blessed day, go in peace, wash your hands, love your neighbor: you are not alone.