On the Way to the Meadow

8x10 Oil

The Meadow is more of an experience, than a place. It’s something that happened to me on Hawai’i Island about five years ago. I call it the Meadow because it happened in a cow pasture, the only witnesses being three curious cows. The experience continues to be the most significant event of my life so far. It was exquisitely simple, and infinitely deep. My greatest wish is to call it back, if only for a moment.

But that’s not how the Universe works.

One day I will share what happened, but not just yet. I am waiting for a painting to appear on my easel that gives me that permission. It will come, in time.

But I will say this: I believe I had to earn the right to my moments in that pasture. That’s pure conjecture, of course, because who knows how the Universe works? I mean, really? It’s all so utterly inexplicable. It makes me crazy to think too long about what it means to be alive. It’s like trying to figure out a miracle within another miracle. Or trying — just trying because that’s all I can do — to fathom the reality of creation itself. Ahhh!

So I fall back on what I can do, on the more understandable pieces of my life. My emotions. Gut feelings. Love and fear. Chicken skin moments. Surprise. Wonder. Desire. These all give me clues as to what the heck is going on behind the scenes of my life.

But the Meadow … the Meadow was something greater than these.

It arrived unexpectedly. In fact, I didn’t know that I didn’t know that it was even possible … a glimpse into all that wondrous unknown. The last words uttered by Steve Jobs, according to his sister, were “Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow.” My experience in the pasture was like that.

And there is no way I can call it back. The Universe has its own protocol.

But I can believe that it will happen again, that I can find my way to it.

Somehow.