Holding Together the Universe

J. D. Salinger once wrote "She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together." Those words got me thinking or maybe it would be truer to say that those words got me NOT thinking. In those silent places where nothing seems to be happening at all, in those moments, perhaps, we are in deep conversation with the universe. If only we could still the constant inner chatter (and we can, yes, we can) we would find ourselves part of a much larger conversation than the inner litany of fears and needs that seems to fill all the spaces. It is here, where "nothing seems to be happening" that everything is happening. When I considered writing about this idea it occurred to me that the perfect blog post would be one word: Enough. Or perhaps an admonition: "Shh!"

Some days when I am out walking in the wilderness area behind my house, fleeing work for a precious half hour or so, I'll reach a place where I will stop and ask myself "Where am I?" I'll be hiking amidst the pines and supposedly enjoying the view, true enough, but really I am lost in thought. Then, if I am very lucky, I am awake enough to notice my own inattention and pause. When I let the words drift away it is as if the whole universe smiles and says "Ah, there she is. Finally!" I remember and I am re-membered.

Yes, the doing is important, but the real healing work, holding the universe together, comes in the moments when it looks like nothing is happening. Our silence is a promise: I am here. I am available. How will you know you have found one of those precious moments where you are holding the universe together, even as it is holding you? You will know it by the silence and by the absence of words. You will know it by the inner sigh of relief and homecoming that wells up from deep within you. Ah. Home again. I remember now.