Reflections, October 2015

By James Jacobsen-Maisels, Founder and Spiritual Director

Earlier this month, a new baby girl was born to our family. She is our third child and hers was the third birth I had been present for. It was wondrous, emotional, extraordinary and simply miraculous.

It isn’t surprising that it was so wondrous and emotional for me, nor is it that surprising that her birth felt as miraculous as my first child's birth. But after, I asked our midwife (who herself appeared emotionally impacted) if each birth still moved her every time.

“Yes,” she told me. “Every time is a miracle.”

But, as we all know, especially those of us who are parents, somehow the awe of the miracle fades. We love our children, but, unfortunately, we aren’t struck by their miraculousness at every moment. Whether we are parents or not, we all know this experience. We are struck with wonder at some moment, by some event or interaction, and then the wonder fades. We become inured to wonder.

It is sad. But it isn’t necessary. Anyone who has truly allowed the mind to settle (on retreat, for instance) knows that when your mindfulness grows strong, suddenly even the most mundane moment can be filled with wonder. You heart may be broken by a torn leaf, your soul will marvel at the play of sunlight through the window of the meditation hall, everything glows, everything sparkles, everything is bathed in the wondrousness of divinity.

Our practice is to come back to that wonder in the midst of the mundane, to bring the divine down to earth. To remember that our children are miracles at every moment, to remember that this life is a gift, and to raise our voices in thanks as we bless on each thing we are privileged to enjoy in this life.

Right now, my new daughter is still a wonder. Her wondrousness helps me remember the wondrousness of my other children. It inclines my heart and mind in the direction of the wonder. My work is to keep the path open, to keep noticing the wonder which is always around me and let myself enter it.