A Summer of Wonder: Stewarding Transformation within a Season of Paradox


It has been a profound season of extremes. Throughout the summer, I’ve experienced breathtaking moments of beauty, human connection, and synchronistic magic. On the other hand, these ‘hazy days of summer’ have burned with the cruelty of environmental and human suffering, systemic hardship, and the heavy friction of a world in transformation.

I’m sure that I’m far from alone in feeling we are caught in a swing between extremes: despair over our environmental and humanitarian crisis, alongside the precious moments of awe and wonder that we are so often gifted. This emotional pendulum is not sustainable or helpful for the transformative work we are called to serve, but what are we to do?

I believe this is not an either/or approach, but a practice in finding our way back to the wisdom of the cosmos to hold this juxtaposition of beauty and tragedy, without allowing either to fragment our sense of wholeness. Perhaps being present to this no-man’s land in the middle of a paradox is where opportunity for transformation awaits. 

In this article by Maria Popova in The Marginalian, she writes about the Japanese concept of “Ma.” Quoting Ann Tashi Slater’s description from her book Traveling in Bardo: The Art of Living in an Impermanent World: “Ma” means “interval” or “opening,” both in space and time.” 

It’s an interesting analogy to consider for what seems to be the place in which so many of us find ourselves these days. As humans, we struggle with ambiguity. We want clear definitions and straight-forward reasoning. How can we reconcile our daily experiences within a world that is both beautiful and burning. How can we take action from a place of love, while standing within this liminal space of paradox?

The Sacred Act of Surrender

For over 50 years, I’ve been searching for the answers to these big questions. When I was in my 20s one of my original teachers and guides was associated with Sufism and Islam. Of all the religions of the world, Islam was the one I least understood, and therefore, I wanted to learn more. 

The word “Islam” itself means surrender. Now, me as a brave and bold 23-year-old seeker on the path, I thought; “bullshit with surrender. That sounds like something the establishment would tell you to do, so you stop thinking for yourself…” My personal search for decades thereafter has helped me realize how wrong I was, and that at the end of the day, surrender is the only way we're going to make it. 

Now, I'm not defining surrender as giving up, or relinquishing our agency to another person or group. This is about a practice in surrendering to Divine Will, or however you would define this higher state of consciousness. In this act of submission, it is honoring and empowering the inner voice that whispers to us of our purpose, the emotional surge of love for Mother Nature, and the intuition we feel but so often push aside. It is allowing us to quiet our preconceived ideas of what “should be” or our ego’s agenda, and surrender in this void, this “Ma,” of divine possibility and knowing.

It must be the way forward in transformation. After all, as my humorous friend Swami Beyondananda once said; “Oh my god, the cosmos has us surrounded!  We might as well surrender.” To surrender is to immerse ourselves in the Implicate Order, so that the pilot wave of divine consciousness can flow through us as a collective. 

True surrender is dropping our resistance to reality as it actually is and then getting to work on finding solutions. These are dynamic and complicated times. We are witnessing extraordinary creativity, achievement, technology and the miraculous, alongside so much tragedy, anger and degradation. By surrendering to the Divine, we can begin to move out of reactive fear and enter a state of presence, where we can begin to listen to the deeper intelligence guiding us forward.

From Wonder to Love-in-Action

This balance becomes clear through the unbroken, living eco-system of the Holomovement. Influenced by physicist David Bohm’s philosophy, the holomovement reminds us that the universe is a continuous interplay between the unmanifest field of oneness (the Implicate Order) and the physical world we experience (the Explicate Order). From this perspective, the devastating realities of our world and its breathtaking beauty are not separate, competing forces. They are part of a self-healing cosmos experiencing an evolutionary impulse, which is created by the friction between implicate and explicate.  Caught in the “Ma” space interval in the trough of the grand evolutionary wave, our purpose is to synthesize the opposing forces and find our way forward as an emergent force for good.  So, we wonder just how this might work.

Joy does not erase sorrow, nor does suffering diminish the power of a sunrise. Wonder is consciousness grounding us in the sacred essence of life, reminding us that even in times of extreme change, we are inextricably woven into a living whole. To witness and experience awe alongside hardship is not hypocritical; it is an alignment with prior unity. 

Without our ability to hold and honor both experiences, we are unable to fully step into our purpose. Despair breeds paralysis because it convinces us that we are isolated fragments powerless against massive systems. Naive optimism breeds inaction because it bypasses the real work needed on the ground. But a grounded sense of wonder, acknowledged while holding the reality of pain, awakens us to love-in-action.

Transcending the Paradox Toward Transformation

By surrendering our resistance to reality and honoring the juxtaposition of beauty and suffering that is inevitable to the human condition, we are truly able to get to work. This is the evolutionary trough we find ourselves to begin our transformative ascent. It’s intentional and sacred, but we must not overthink the process either.

A month ago, I was able to experience a microcosm of what this transformative crossing requires. Participating in a group hike in a beautiful mountain valley, we came to a point where we had to cross a river. It was a rushing, cold stream with stepping stones, mostly covered with slippery moss. Now, I've crossed a lot of streams, but I looked at that one, and I thought “Take this seriously, and be careful.” 

I was reminded of David Bohm and his awakening as a theoretical physicist. When he was a young boy, he came to a similar situation, facing a river he needed to cross. Not known for his physical athleticism, he was seized with anxiety knowing he needed to follow his friends but not sure how to go about the jumping while maintaining the balance required. At first, he thought he could analyze their movements and then imitate their actions, and that would be enough for him to overcome his own limitations. 

But, like our own complicated and dynamic season of planetary and human evolution, there were too many hidden variables to find an easy solution. Each boy had their own approach, and their process could not be replicated. In a moment of intuition and inspiration, Bohm realized that he should not overthink it. He had to take the leap and find his balance along the way as he safely forded the stream.  

This is the surrender of trusting in the Divine and being in flow with our purpose and gifts to navigate this ascent toward transformation. It doesn’t always look pretty or feel graceful. Back there in that valley with my friends, I made it across but not before slipping and falling on the muddy bank. However, the goal was achieved and together we were able to carry on up the valley with stories to share and a bit more laughter.

Later that day, I sat with my friends meditating on the majestic mountain side.  I looked out through a canopy of trees at the jagged mountains dappled in the shadows of fluffy clouds.  And then I thought about the fact that at that very moment the vast forested mountains around Madrid, where I live, were being devoured by the flames of uncontrolled fires.  The meadows where I had picnicked with my family and the valleys where I had looked for wild mushrooms were turning to ash while I languished on the soft green grass of apparent paradise just a few hours away.  Entangled in the Ma moment, the words of a Sixto Rodgriguez song came to mind.  Sixto, a humble construction worker from Detroit who inspired the youth of South Africa to fight against Apartheid, wrote these stanzas of his enchanting song “I Wonder.”

I wonder about the love you can't find
And I wonder about the loneliness that's mine
I wonder how much going have you got
And I wonder about your friends that are not
I wonder, I wonder, wonder I do

I wonder about the tears in children's eyes
And I wonder about the soldier that dies
I wonder will this hatred ever end
I wonder and worry my friend
I wonder, I wonder, wonder don't you?

I am sure it has been a similar summer of wonder for you.  Yet, in the unknown bardo of our wondrous doubts, our potential is awakened the moment we choose to co-create for the good of the whole, in the midst of suffering and tragedy. We must hold one another up. Our joy and awe will give us strength to tend to those in need and help everyone in crossing one of the most important and difficult paths of our times. In this ability to hold both the hope and the tragedy while being present to our reality, we can surrender to the energetic flow that carries us toward our collective potential.

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