Breath of God

Green Space

“Stillness is really another word for space. Becoming conscious of stillness whenever we encounter it in our lives will connect us with the formless and timeless dimension within ourselves, that which is beyond thought, beyond ego.”

Eckhart Tolle (A New Earth)

I was driving back from Leeds one day this week, observing the countryside all around. I like to take back roads when I can because interstates are so boring. I thought at the time that someone who really hates the color green would be in big trouble in Alabama right now. Weeks of rain have generated so many hues of green that one is almost suffocated by their intensity.

That brought my attention to all the miles of open space I pass along the way—not cultivated, not grazed, just land with trees and weeds and scraggly undergrowth. I recalled driving through the North Carolina mountains with a friend many years ago; about an hour into one of the gorges, he asked, with the razor-edge of panic in his voice, “Will we ever get back to civilization?” In my world view, it's a boon that there is still so much undeveloped land in America; space for nature to be still and remote, for hawks to nest, and bears, and badgers, and chipmunks to burrow. I can't imagine that anyone on planet Earth needs another strip mall or dollar store.

My friend, Susan, emailed me a wonderful story on the subject. She said, “Years ago, the best man in our wedding bought a scrappy little farm in Cherokee county—not really good for crops or cows. When my husband questioned why he had bought it, Jim replied, 'it's holding the world together.'” What if that's true. What if all those green acres we pass without noticing, ones so inconsequential they don't warrant a single glance, are the essential glue that holds the world together. What if all that still, green, open space is the very breath of God.

                                                       In the Spirit,

                                                           Jane