Beauty. Of. Erosion.

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It’s the week after Father’s Day and I’m struck by the number of people I met over the weekend missing their fathers. Time reaps its harvest. And if not time, then disease. Or accidents. Or simply the unfortunate collision of circumstances. Life changes. We grow older. What once felt so secure now feels vulnerable. Certainty is replaced with doubt. And if doubt is too strong of word it, then at least an acknowledgement that our living is radically and ruthlessly contingent.

Everyday the work of erosion happens, and by that I mean, things happen that erode false premises and viewpoints, even false selves that once served us so well but no longer do what they used to do. When life erodes us we begin to see that we are vulnerable. That these bodies do not last forever. Erosion reveals that we’re no better or worse than others. We are simply men and women seeking a happy life. The erosion of time reminds us that, at our core, there is something good and beautiful within us all. Some call it the presence of God. Others the Spirit. Still others the True Self. Regardless, something deep within us begins to shine when other things are washed away.

Viewed in a certain way, erosion doesn’t so much destroy as it reveals. Sometimes soil and mud and rocks are washed away in a great storm, but what is revealed is a granite hillside gleaming in the afternoon sun. Take a Breath today. And then another. And then another after that. Perhaps something essential is being revealed in you and through today.

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