I've been studying Parashat Beshalach this week, because I'm supposed to give a drash about it on friday, so my mind has been on things like the Song at the Sea.
This morning, I went ambling and wandering around in the mild wild behind my neighborhood, in the greenbelt; the last vestige of real hill country this side of 1604. I hope it stays perfectly under-developed. Made some attempts at getting the thorn out of my side, without success. Decided that rather than sink down under the weight of my particular brand of oppression, I would stand up and shine, knowing that the Darkness doesn't comprehend the Light.
I was blessed with a moment of bliss from out of torment, as I stood facing the serenely sleepy hills, under the cottony blanket of cold-front clouds, streaming gently over the land. A cute cat which I temporarily named Sophia came brushing up against my legs and saying "mah". There was a face in the clouds, and it was peaceful. I asked Wisdom to be my mother, sister, friend.
I would say it was a moment of clarity, when truths become self-evident as you realize things... the way they are, simply. The way you apparently forgot they were, because the knowledge feels like it is coming back to you, instead of appearing for the first time.
I thought of the Song at the Sea, of Shemot 15, a moment in time when the entire assembly of Israel found itself so whole, complete and in harmony with all Creation, (because of divine deliverance from out of a furnace of fear) that they sang a new song all together as one. A song of comprehending the Truth. A song of comprehending our place in the vast expanse of history and space.
These divine coincidences, serendipitous happenings, moments of illumination, have nothing to do with our selves or how special we may be. A real moment of clarity, of Light, and of comprehension has only to do with opening my eyes to the truth of God's vast river of Life and Love, and recognizing that I can choose to flow with the current of that river and experience serendipity, or struggle against it, attempting to find my own way, and feel myself grow colder, even as anger burns its way through the reserves of my fuel.
Light is so much bigger than Darkness. And no, the Darkness still has not comprehended the Light.
Miriam's Dance, 2008, דבורח