While meditating on wealth and spirituality, I remember one particularly powerful experience. I was reflecting on the times when I had money and when I did not. At the time I was near the ocean. It had just rained, and slowly my attention was drawn to the vast expanse of water in front of me and then to a puddle by the side of the road.
Oceans and puddles. My attention went back and forth between the two. Should I damn the puddle for being so small? Wasn’t it serving a purpose? Wasn’t it helping to collect a pool of water until the sun could evaporate it? Didn’t I have multiple childhood memories of splashing about in puddles? Didn’t I remember the delight, the laughter, the squealing in joy at seeing water splash all around me as my boot stomped down into the water? Yes, puddles had brought a lot of joy into my life.
As for oceans, having grown up in the Midwest, I always found it a magical experience to head down to Florida to see the vast expanse of water before me: the waves rolling in and out, surfers riding the waves, sea creatures of all kind inhabiting a whole new universe below. Oceans were always mysterious and magical to me, not to mention healing and soothing, which was why I was standing in front of the ocean at that time.
Of course, lakes had always brought a lot of joy to me as well. There were lots of lakes in the Midwest. I loved the water. I liked both sailing and water-skiing, and swimming was always one of my favorite things. Picnics on the grass. Family outings. Those early teenage romantic rendezvous. Except for the jiggers, which could bite you, I never had a memory of a lake I didn’t thoroughly adore.
Even water in a glass has a purpose. I