Spring Vascillations

It always amazes me how the Universe works to weave threads together into just the tapestry we need.

I’ve been re-reading some poetry by W. B. Yeats lately, and once again, I came across my favorite Yeats’ poem, “Vascillation.” It’s a long poem, but there are two stanzas I especially love:

My fiftieth year had come and gone,

I sat, a solitary man,

In a crowded London shop,

An open book and empty cup

On the marble table-top.

While on the shop and street I gazed

My body of a sudden blazed;

And twenty minutes more or less

It seemed, so great my happiness,

That I was blesséd and could bless.

For me, these stanzas suggest a sudden awareness of how solitude, humanity, and compassion intersect, which results in an illuminated moment of joy. So the poem is the warp.

And here’s the weft. In addition to my daily practice, I’ve been contemplating a different lojong saying each day (lojong is a system of Tibetan mind training based on 59 sayings). I have the sayings on a set of cards with the saying on one side, and commentary by Pema Chodron on the other. So what does the card I drew (randomly) from the deck today say? “Do not vascillate.” Pema’s commentary says this means to be steadfast in one’s practice.

I like to think the Universe wove these vascillation threads into today’s delightful spring tapestry in order to remind me that I should pay attention to surprising moments of illumination but not to get hung up on them—notice, enjoy, be grateful, then move on in steadfast daily practice.