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.
