The Dove

This is going to be a particularly brief column this month. For one very good reason, really. For the life of me, I can't think of a single thing to say. And even if I could, I probably wouldn't have the energy to say it. After so many months of waiting, the sun is finally shining, the temperature is inviting, and not far from my finally-open front door, a dove is cooing. Now that, if you've never taken the time to listen, is one of the most eloquent and convincing sounds in all of nature. There is, for a reasonable man, only one possible response to its message, and that is to set aside anything that even remotely resembles work, put your feet up on whatever is handy, stare straight into the middle of that cloud up there, and simply listen.

"Spring fever" is the name we usual give to this sort of feeling. But it's not a very good name. The feeling is about as far from feverish as it is possible to get. Movement of any sort seems a good bit more trouble than it is worth. But neither is it that "blah" feeling that we usually associate with inactivity. Just a comfortable sort of inertia, really. Pretty much a growing conviction that there just isn't anything all that pressing that needs doing, at least not right now, and it's OK that way. The realization that very little if anything in life depends on precisely how I spend the next hour or so.

That dove, after all, does indeed have a message. It is that most of what I am experiencing right now 'the sun, the breeze, the clouds, the sights, sounds and smells of a truly living world' will continue on as they always have, as they have been ordained to do, quite independently of any effort I might make. It is that most of what we are called to enjoy in life is really not of our own making. It is that most of the pleasures of creation are purely gratuitous, purely a "gift," given to us not to use or improve upon or profit from, but simply to enjoy.

Perhaps now, in the spring and summer, more than at any other time of the year, we are called to realize that sometimes prayer is a passive thing, that we truly encounter the goodness of God not so much in the efforts that we put into finding Him, but rather simply in sitting back and letting Him touch us. It's a good thing to realize that sometimes the finding of goodness is an event that overtakes us, and all we have to do is just stop moving.

So do that. Sometimes before this week is out, simply ignore some task you have before you, something that you "really should be doing." Label it for what it is, ultimately not all that terribly important. Sit down, find a cloud, and sink into it. If you are lucky, there will even be a dove somewhere about to give you moral support.

From 1980 through 1982, Father Sandell served as Chaplain to the Bishop O'Reilly Council No. 3918,Grafton, North Dakota Chapter of the Knights of Columbus. "Scattered Thoughts" is a collection of essays based on columns originally written for the Chaplain's Corner, section of the Council's monthly newsletter.