The Work Of Nature As Birthing

The German mystic Meister Eckhardt spoke, in one of his many sermons, about the nature of the immanent-God--the Divine here and now, the Suchness/Thusness of... well... just this!--as being one of constant labouring. God is perpetually creative. The Divine is uhm... er.. obsessively, chronically, compulsively pregnant!

God seems to be (and I am sorry you Conservative Christians out there) not unlike the stereotypical 'welfare mom!' Barefoot and pregnant? Indeed! Yes! That is the nature of Nature, the thusness of the Suchness: constant, unending labour in the act of giving birth to worlds within worlds within worlds as both natural as well as super-natural.

Multiply. Create. Give birth. Labour to manifest that which it is in your nature--the Tao, the Dharma--to do so. These are the commandments given to all persons, to all beings--to all of Creation and Createdness! Labour deliciously. Sweat and bleed and groan and agonize over what you are destined to have pass through you; to that which shall come out of you one way or another!

And though there is that sweating, that bleeding, and that agonizing, there is also the natural ease and effortlessness of the gently falling snow that does not try to fall, nor intend to be blown upon the wind, nor will to be what is in its nature to both be and do. Snow is just snow. You are just you. I am... well, just me! The nature that expresses itself in exquisite ease and effortlessness via falling snow is the same nature that permeates the totality of our existence as apparent human-beings; meaning that our work can be as effortless and graceful as the falling snow.

Perhaps it comes about for us in our capacity to crystallize a specific form of work in the same way that snow crystallizes within a 'perfect set of conditions' that make the transformation of elements into 'falling snow' just happen so easily. It may be that we have to wait on our work in the same way that evaporated moisture waits on cold winds aloft. It may be that we are turned over and tranformed through the seasons and the cycles--seeming to never attain our chosen direction--only to be pleasantly surprised one day when we find ourselves 'falling into our labours' like a delicate crystal birthed in the midst of the openness of the sky.

The same work... the same labours... that pull on us with a gravitational force... gently, though persistently...so that it seems as if we have 'no choice' in the matter of what we will do. It just happens! Or, we can say that our nature (falling snow), in accordance with work and labour, may have an element of choicelessness that invokes images of Taoist sages and reclusive Zen masters who seem to be so 'in accord' with the nature of things as they are that no movement is ever wasted. Every gesture seems perfect because there is no conflict between who one is... and what one does.

Just like the falling snow does not second-guess itself half way down to the ground... ; o )

Makes me wonder if... just being who we are... is such that the doing of that which one is always takes care of itself. It is done. It just happens.

Is it our alignment with Being (healing the split, resolving the illusion of separateness from our own Nature) that makes all of our doing not unlike the falling of the snow?