An Ordinary Sacredness

This morning I felt—flat. We who have a history of depression know exactly what I mean when I say "flat." It is that feeling where there is no sadness or depression but a numbness and uncertainty of what one is feeling. It is almost indescribable and defies words yet "flat" seems to come close to describing this feeling. I started to wonder if I was lying to myself about feeling sad, not intentionally, but in seeking to stay positive in my thinking.

I didn't have any planned activity early in the morning until work later on in the early afternoon. This emotion was so pronounced that I begun to wonder what I should do about it. I have to be honest and admit that I was fearful that it may take me where I didn't want to go. I grabbed my Bible and another spiritual book and sat on my sofa. I started reading. I also had a bottle of water next to me and started sipping the water. A few sips later, I placed my Bible down and started paying attention. I wasn't just drinking water. I was enjoying its coolness on my lips and noticing its smoothness onto my tongue as it gently coursed down my throat. I wasn't just drinking the water, I was enjoying it. This attentiveness grew into appreciation of what I was doing—I was hydrating my body. I heard myself whisper, "Water is life." 

This mysterious whispering of "water is life" caught me by surprise. I immediately found myself reconsidering my initial thoughts about feeling flat. What I think I was calling flat was my initial inability to grasp that my body, mind and soul were desiring an "intentional stillness." I wasn't sad or flat or depressed, I just was in the state of being rather than doing. This attentiveness to the common act of just sipping water became a sacred moment.

I too invite you, to rethink your moments of flatness when they come. Like me, embedded in them may be the unfolding of a mysterious surprise and a sacred moment.