We all have
them, these moments. They are hard to
define, yet easy to identify.
I started
thinking about such moments a few weeks ago,
without being able to put a name to them. I was
travelling between the Isle of Wight and
Portsmouth on the Wightlink ferry. The boat was
not crowded, and I was able to sit right at the
front looking down at the prow of the boat.
Suddenly something caught the corner of my eye.
Focussing more carefully I saw that we were
being guided towards Portsmouth by several
dolphins, leaping from the waves in perfect arcs
and easily keeping pace with the ferry. I defy
anyone to watch the effortless play of wild
dolphins and not be "surprised by joy" as C. S.
Lewis put it. I watched for about half a minute,
then the Captain came on the P.A. system to tell
passengers about the dolphins and where to look
to see them. A crowd of people
materialised around me, eager to catch a
glimpse, but by that time the dolphins had gone
away. For me, however, it was a precious image.
"Fleeting
yet eternal."
Those, I
decided, were the words I was searching for to
describe the experience, but I only found them
several weeks later when I was reading a book
called "Reasonable Doubt" by Italian crime
writer Gianrico Carofiglio. In it he describes
an experience as "like the way you feel when
you leave home early in the morning and there's
nobody about. When you sit down in a bar near
the sea, have your coffee and wait, and the
streets gradually fill and you're very aware of
everything and you feel as if you're part of
something fleeting yet eternal".
I think it's
a wonderful phrase, and I began to think about
other fleeting yet eternal moments.
A Sunday
morning, driving Katharine to the church
retreat at Lee Abbey. We round a bend at the
top of Porlock Hill and a magnificent stag
stands in the middle of the road. He
is there just for an instant before leaping
over the hedge, but the after-image remains
on my retina.
A
Saturday night in Salisbury. Katharine and I
are walking around the cathedral which is
floodlit, and which appears to float, almost
ethereal, in the surrounding darkness.
Someone is rehearsing tomorrow's organ
voluntary inside and, unexpectedly, in the
middle distance spectacular fireworks
appear.
Downtown
Manhattan, 1993. We have been watching Tom
Hanks and Meg Ryan in "Sleepless in
Seattle", the 'big' movie of the moment in
the U.S. Emerging from the 'theatre' we
realise that we are just around the corner
from the Empire State Building. We ride to
the top, and walk out to see all of New York
illuminated at our feet, the Statue of
Liberty in the distance. Breathtaking.
These are
moments of pure gift. They are never planned.
They are the result of the confluence of time,
place and the openness of a person to receive
them. We do not earn them. They never last long,
yet they are long remembered. They evoke joy,
wonder and gratitude. They stir our souls.
The artwork
above is used by kind permission of Dosia McKay,
an artist and musician. The picture is called
'Blossom'. Produced on computer, for me her art
captures the essence of this experience of
something fleeting yet eternal. This
feeling can also be captured in some music.
As Dosia writes: "Music
is an inward cry, a wordless prayer, a hunger, a
yearning for something outside of ourselves.
It's a dream, an intangible reality, an
invisible force entering through the ears and
claiming the heart, it's a dance of the soul, it
is faith calling to existence things fleeting,
yet eternal".
[Read more about Dosia McKay.]
These
moments enrich us. Whatever their nature,
wherever they take place, they lift our hearts
and reconnect us to God through the wonder, joy
and gratitude that we experience.
I would love
to know about your "fleeting yet eternal"
moments, or your thoughts about such moments. If you would like to share
your experiences or thoughts I would be
delighted to publish them, anonymously if you
wish, on our website.
Thank you,
and blessings from all
of us at St. Andrew's Church in Taunton UK.
Adrian
Webmaster
NOTE: I am the webmaster of St. Andrew's
Church, not clergy or a reader. I write as 'a man in a pew'
so you should not assume that I necessarily know what I'm
talking about, or that what I say reflects the views of other people
in our church.
Dosia McKay - artist, composer and musician
Dosia McKay was born and raised in
Poland during the last decades of
communism. She writes: "I was drawn to
various art forms since childhood and my
formative years were spent studying
classical music and flute performance.
Early 1990s brought me to the United
States and opened my eyes to the
possibilities I have never considered
before.
I graduated with a degree in Computer
Integrated Drafting and Design and for
over 10 years have worked as a technical
illustrator.
My visual artwork is created digitally
and manipulated utilizing various image
processing software packages. The
techniques of color application and
texture are reminiscent of watercolor or
oil painting. The detailing of the
artwork is second to none, down to the
canvas texture and paint strokes.
Therefore my artwork does not have an
artificial or a "computer feel". Rather,
it is very organic, accessible, and
engaging.
I create my pieces in a very intuitive
and introspective way. I don't like to
limit myself to any particular format,
technique, or current trends in the
world of art. The common denominator to
all of my pieces is the capturing of a
particular emotion or an idea, often
summarized in the title of the piece. My
abstract paintings tend to resonate with
people's imagination and touch them on a
personal level when they identify with
the emotions portrayed in the paintings.
They are personal "epiphanies".
In addition to creating visual art, I
also pursue music as a composer and a
flutist."
Dosia's website is stunning, and her
pictures and music can be both enjoyed
and purchased through the site.
Please visit:
http://www.dosiamckay.com/