Recovering the Holy Ordinary

Turning Off Our Devices To Find Real Life

My daughters and I hiked a strenuous 2900 feet over six miles to arrive at the magnificent Gore Lake near Frisco, Colorado. We planned to stay two nights on the lake and then hike out. On the first morning, I awoke before the girls, grabbed my small stove, and made coffee by the lake. 

In the stillness, I watched the fog quietly creep over the pass and dissipate as it met the sun's first rays. Concentric circles multiplied across the water's surface from the opportunistic fish. And for an hour, savoring my coffee, I watched ants moving to and fro in front of me, diligently working and moving materials twice their size. 

It was one of the most beautifully ordinary moments of my life. But it felt holy. 

On another backpacking excursion in Alaska, the guys and I approached the top of Mount Eielson with Denali towering in the distance. No one spoke a word, as if we already knew what to do and what the others were thinking. Along the ridgeline, we drifted apart, equidistant, to sit and stare and marvel and contemplate the beauty, to drink in the magnificence. It was another indescribably humbling, awe-inspiring, and deeply spiritual moment. There was a shared solemnity, a communal rite of the sacred and holy.

But experiencing the holy, or being taken by wonder in a seemingly ordinary moment, does not require going to Colorado or Alaska. In fact, I have been with individuals who were no more awake sitting by an alpine lake or climbing a mountain than when they were sitting at work.

The truth is that opening ourselves to a holy moment requires presence.

Presence is permitting yourself to turn down the volume of all distractions and be here, now.

It is allowing yourself to turn off your phone, or leave it at home, while you take a long walk and contemplate the beauty of the sun's rays breaking through the trees, the snow falling delicately from the sky, or the wind blowing through your hair. It is shutting down social media so that you can sit in the quiet and observe the details, intricacies, and wonders around you. It is acknowledging that there may be troubles, but for now, you will close your eyes and listen to your heartbeat while meditating on every breath and all that is good.

Question

1. Spend some time outside this week without technology. Be intentional in noticing things you might normally miss. What did you see and how did that make you feel?

Peace,

Brandon