Lenten Day Ten: Archibald McLeish

February 23, 2024

There is no dusk to be,
There is no dawn that was,
Only there’s now, and now,
And the wind in the grass.

From “An Eternity,” by Archibald McLeish

On this tenth day of Lent, one quarter of the way to Easter, you may begin
to notice some repetitive themes among my collection of quotations. That’s
because I have certain concerns/growing points/desires/challenges that call to
me over and over. One of those challenges is the practice of “awareness,”
which is why I also keep this snippet of McLeish’s poem taped to my desk.
McLeish reminds me how easy it is to forget the reality of the “now, and
now.”

To be honest, most mornings I get up already distracted. The coffee needs brewing, the cats want to be fed, I have somewhere I need to be, my text messages are beeping, my husband wants to chat, my writing projects are piling up, I need to get this blog posted. And then there’s the laundry.

But wait.  Isn’t the “now, and now” miraculous?  The aroma and anticipation of coffee brewing?  The tiny hairs on my cats’ tissue-thin ears?  Having people who want to be in relationship with me?  A partner who enjoys my company?  Projects that give me a sense of joy and fulfillment?  People who actually read what I write?  Clothes to wear?  Eyes to see, ears to hear, fingers to touch this “now, and now”?  The “now, and now” also brings God’s very name to mind:  “I AM.”  Not, I was.  Not, I will be.  I AM.  Now, and Now.

Looking back and looking forward are habits that can keep us from living in the now that is right in front of us, that is a gift, that can help ground us in a world increasingly unsteady.  Why are we so unaware of the present moment?  So ready to move on from it?  The answers are as varied as each one of us, but the question is worth asking. 

I can’t add anything else to the eloquent and yet simple words of Archibald McLeish except to say “thank you” and seek to practice them and notice, right now, the wind in the grass.

Blessings ~ Rosemary