The Psalmist Blog

It may be strange to say that “ecstasy” is an endangered species, but the raw, native kind I mean seems in short supply – at least among us humans. We grow into a worrying lot, grow so mechanical, instrumental, preoccupied with so much: “what to eat, to wear, to do, to mend, and attend to.” So many story loops play in the head, forever cycling and recycling old cares and then ready-up new ones.

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For many of us, that first draught of sheer wonder on awakening to the gift of light once more each day can, at the sound of the alarm, so easily get overcast by the burdens each life bears. The burden of endless real-life cares. But if no “ecstasy,” no vitality, no creativity, no energy to richly inhabit this living cosmos, this one and only singing planet of endless wonder. If no energy from the root, from the ground of being itself, we have no way to bear those cares that are ours and everyone’s.