A security clearance form asked me to list the countries I have visited during my lifetime. I struggled to answer the question. Fortunately, the form only had 21 spaces. As I filled in the spaces, I kept thinking of the ones not included. I am still struggling to filter my response. When I sent the form in, I flagged that the number was closer to seventy countries. I have been fortunate. Enriched by the experience, I struggle with how one might describe the impact on my life.
This morning, I read one writer’s observation across the centuries. “Oh, how I prospered! I left all my predecessors in Jerusalem far behind, left them behind in the dust. What’s more, I kept a clear head through it all.” (Ecclesiastes 2:9) When it comes to cultures, food, art, and the relationships created through shared experiences with these three, I have thrived.
In appreciating the gifts I have, I also remember the sacrifices and loss. I would gladly give up the experiences from the trip that meant I was not home when my daughter crashed her bicycle and ended up with a concussion. I wish I had made a different decision when I missed a defining moment in the life of a good friend. As big as the sacrifices and losses might be, the question I face this morning is direct and confrontational. What will I do with what I know?
Beauty and wonder will touch my life in ways I cannot imagine if I permit them to do so. I frequently forget that I hold the keys to my awareness, insights, and understanding. Everything in the space begins with my willingness to open the door to my heart and soul. For very valid reasons, it is not automatic. The question is when, how, and to whom. As I stood in front of the sculpture, I found myself at peace. The reflection, colours, and lines touched me with permission, taking me to a place where I experienced the harmony of values, priorities, and soul coming together in a warm embrace.
