This morning, during my AA sunrise meeting, a fellow member shared a simple yet profound observation: “Every morning, the sun comes up, and I believe in it.” This seemingly straightforward statement struck a deep chord within me, echoing sentiments I’ve long pondered and explored, particularly in my writing about the “Invisible World” and the paradoxes of belief.
The sunrise meeting, a daily ritual for me, consistently provides such moments of inspiration. The shared experiences, the raw honesty, and the unwavering support create an environment where profound truths can emerge. This morning’s reflection resonated deeply because of my lifelong connection to nature. Even during the darkest periods of my addiction, the natural world – the vibrant green of plants, the graceful flight of birds, the serene beauty of gardens and countryside – offered a lifeline, a reminder of something larger than myself. However, this solace remained fleeting. My focus would inevitably shift, the allure of alcohol would reclaim its hold, and the fragile connection to nature would shatter.
This morning’s sunrise, however, sparked a renewed sense of understanding. My “belief” is no longer a single, isolated conviction. It encompasses a broader worldview, one that aligns with the profound insights I encountered in Aldous Huxley’s “The Perennial Philosophy.” This book eloquently articulated a truth I’ve always intuitively grasped: the fundamental unity underlying all religions and philosophies.
However, this unity doesn’t lie in dogmatic adherence to specific creeds or rituals. As Alcoholics Anonymous profoundly taught me, true belief resides in recognising a power greater than oneself, striving for personal growth, and cultivating compassion for all beings. This “God,” if you will, is not a distant, imposing figure, but an inherent spark of divinity present within every aspect of the universe.
Think of it as a precious resource, like gold or diamonds, limited in quantity. We must nurture and protect this divine spark not only within ourselves but also within every interaction, every encounter, every living thing. As William Blake eloquently expressed in his “Hymn to Beauty,” we are not the pinnacle of creation; the entire universe is a masterpiece, and we are intricately woven into its tapestry.
This realisation has profound implications for my recovery and my life. It compels me to view the world with a renewed sense of reverence and interconnectedness. It encourages me to cultivate gratitude for the beauty that surrounds me and to treat all beings with kindness and respect. It reminds me that my well-being is inextricably linked to the well-being of the planet and all its inhabitants.
This morning’s simple observation has become a powerful beacon, guiding me towards a life of deeper meaning, greater compassion, and a renewed appreciation for the interconnectedness of all things.
A Hymn to Beauty – By William Blake
Thou art the source and mine, eternal spring!
The freshness of my days, the beauty of my years!
My morning joy, my evening's loveliest thing!
My life's delight, my solace and my tears!
Thou art the flame that ever burneth bright!
O Beauty, invisible, immortal Bird!
Thou art the secret minister of light!
Thou art the voice of harmonies unheard!
Within my soul thou liest, in every peace
And joy, a placid lake, serene and deep!
A gentle sigh, a solace without cease,
A rest that labor brings, a summer sleep.
Thou art the nurse of love—for 'tis thy reign
O'er which the winged boy delights to soar—
'Tis thine to soothe the soul and hush the pain—
And purge the mind to purity once more.
Thou art the morning star, the evening cloud,
The rainbow and the dawn, the moon's soft gleam—
The song of birds, the murmuring of the crowd—
A living presence in the ocean deep.
Thou art the lifeblood of the universe—
Thou art the spirit of sense, and soul of sight—
All are but parts of thee, however diverse,
Thou art the central fire, the burning light!
God in a wild flower
And in the glorious sun, and in the moon,
And in the stars, the beauty I behold—
In every lovely tree, in every spring,
In every warbling bird, and every thing.
Each smiling blossom, on each blushing bough,
Grows, vibrates, lives, and breathes divinest love.
Identity, itself the mortal dress,
For every form of life I can express.
I see thee in the frowns and smiles of men,
In the sublime, the terrible, and dread,
In the sun's blaze, in Chimborazo's snow,
And in the roaring winds that freely blow.
I see thee in the clouds that wander free,
I see thee in the stormy, angry sea,
I see thee in the depths of the green earth,
All radiant beauty, whether grave or mirth.
I see thee dancing in the yellow corn,
I see thee smiling in the mild morn,
I see thee in the night and in the dawn,
Obscure or bright, I see thee in all scorn.
For 'tis my spirit that doth lend thee form,
And 'tis myself I view in every storm,
And 'tis myself I feel in every art,
My own reflection, imaged in the heart.
For in the souls of men I see thee shine,
In every work of genius, divine,
I see thee flaming in the mystic veil,
Creating what thou seest in every vale.
For thou art the creative spirit free,
That works in all things, great and small,
I see thee everywhere, and feel thee nigh,
I hear thy voice in music's harmony.
