Cloud of Unknowing
“The universes which are amenable to the intellect can never satisfy the instincts of the heart.”
The Cloud of Unknowing, Anonymous
I remember flying back to Arkansas from Montana and hoping to see many blue skies above the clouds. The older I get, the more anxious I seem to be on travel days. I wake up in the early morning and look out on the Whitefish Lake to see a large cloud just above the water. It seems to be getting larger and getting closer to the water. There is no sound except for an occasional crow calling nearby and a slight breeze rustling the aspen leaves in the trees beside the beach. The quiet, the cloud now turning into fog that is more like a whisper as it approaches the lake gives this spot of northern Montana a mystical countenance.
The 14th century book, The Cloud of Unknowing, by Anonymous also is a writing about Christian mysticism. We call something mystical if it is not obvious to our senses or minds. Something happens when we see such beauty as the clouds and the lake in this cool early morning that we cannot explain the experience by what we know. It calms my soul on a day when I pray for calm and patience and flexibility. We know that our experience tells us we have known this presence before when we took time to be present to it.
That is what I hope was reinforced to me on this trip with my family. I hope I will stay present to the moment and not miss again the many clouds of unknowing that are now disappearing as I have almost finished writing about them. I am going to stop so I can experience them one last time and keep them in my album of experiences of the majestic beauty of the precious present.