Living contemplatively

By Mia Pohlman

I have been thinking about what it means to live contemplatively, to slow down and be in the things I'm doing instead of seeing them as obstacles, as tasks to get done in order to get on to something else. Living contemplatively, I think, opens us up to the present moment and to gratitude for it.

We have a God of the present, a God who introduced himself to Moses as "I AM." If we spend all our time plowing through things in order to finish them, always looking to the next thing, we miss all the chances to know God more deeply as the present, and we miss what he's showing us about ourselves in the present, too.

In her essay "Nourishing the Prophetic Vision," Mary Rose O'Reilley writes, "In the Hindu tradition, we might come to earth merely to perform a single minor action essential to the great tapestry of creation: to raise a window or draw back a blind."

She then quotes Bharati Mukherjee's character Jasmine: "'The incentive ... is to treat every second of your existence as a possible assignment from God.'"

The tasks we do each day can be prayer when we realize God is there with us -- and in us and through us -- as we do them, that these are opportunities for us to spend time with God. That we are through him, with him, in him.

Annie Dillard writes, "Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn and unlock -- more than a maple -- a universe. This is how you spend the afternoon, and tomorrow morning and tomorrow afternoon. Spend the afternoon. You can't take it with you."

Some things are worth doing just because they are.

One of my favorite moments in the movie "The Secret Life of Bees" -- which also is an incredible book if you're looking for a transformative summer read -- is when Lily and August are tending the bees.

Before August opens the hive, she says, "Above all, send the bees love. Every little thing wants to be loved." She opens the top of the beehive, and the bees start flying out.

Lily says, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I think living contemplatively opens us up to the present moment, which opens us up to God, who is love.

When we live presently, we can be more aware of how the people around us need to be loved.

Like Lily and the bees, love takes an openness to offering oneself up to be stung. It requires a staying, a presence. And if you provide this, you reap the sweetness of honey.

My friend Katie said, "You only need to be a little open to love." And I think she's right -- love comes in and does the rest.

This is the attitude I want to have toward everything I do this summer, everyone I come into contact with. When I'm setting the table, when I'm making coffee, when I'm interacting with my family, friends and strangers. Presence.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."