I was sitting in my chair during my devotions and watching the smoke from the stick of incense I was burning next to a lit candle.  Yes, Virginia, I’m a smells and bells kind of guy.  A shaft of light was cutting across the coffee table from a south window and I became mesmerized by the way the smoke danced across it.  It was a single strand, then a series of curls, followed by a small cloud which dissipated into the boundary of shadow to the left of the shaft.  New shapes and densities evolved as I continued to watch.

I once learned that smoke was considered by the ancients to be a symbol for the creative life force inherent in the universe.  Indeed, that day it was for me.  Change, dissipation, new order, a constant flow of nothingness seen in the magnification of light.

I felt connected, almost informed, by the ballet of that which I could not contain or make “mine.”  I could only enjoy it, experience it, savor it, smell it.  It was delightful.  It was enlightening.  I was witness to an eternal event which has been repeated since the universe first was.

I sat in the presence of what I believe represents the almighty creative force of life.  Perhaps because of my predisposition to religion, I also experienced being surrounded by love and peace and a simple joy of knowing I am connected to all that is.  Or was it just so much smoke?  I choose the former.

One thought on “Smoke

  1. I think I remember Glen Routt saying something like “Faith is the prism through which we interpret the whole of life.” Maybe he was really on to something there! Thanks for making me think a bit tonight!


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