Did you ever skip stones on a lake when you were a kid? It always seemed so magical to me that you could throw something that would sink like a rock under other conditions and yet now could defy the obvious and bounce, bounce, bounce. Eventually, of course, the nature of things would take its course, but for the moment ... it was like defying the gods and a delightful pastime.
Maybe spiritual adventures begin a little like that -- full of awestruck delight, Skipping along the surfaces of things. Filled with wonder at this thought or that emotion, this bit of learning or that surprise, this hope or that belief, this heart-felt devotion or that piercing recognition. Skipping, skipping, skipping ... how kool is that?! And the answer is, pretty damned kool.
But the wondrous part is, after all that wonderful bounce-bounce-bounce, all that energetic skip-skip-skip, things settle down and what was always meant to sink like a rock sinks like a rock. Of course some people spend their lives skipping along the surface, using vast energies to avoid allowing the ordinary to take its course. But for those who can enjoy the initial wonders and then find that there is no other recourse but to sink like a rock, well, how wonderful is that?
I guess I'm just muttering to myself here. Sometimes the skip-skip-skipping leaves me cranky and ill-disposed. But without that initial energy, that woo-hoo and wonder, how could anyone reach an understanding that sinks below the surface ... and at last gets to the bottom of things without any special effort at all?