Harmony: An instrument of Change

In the gentle whispers of dawn, when the world seems most at peace, we often find ourselves searching for that elusive sense of harmony that seems to be just beyond our grasp. The dolphins, magnificent creatures of God’s creation, show us daily what it means to live in perfect accord with their environment and each other. They seem to emulate grace in their movement and behavior towards each other. A grace that speaks to us of a more profound truth. Once that, mystics have sought to capture in words and prayer throughout the ages.

St. Francis of Assisi, in his Canticle of the Sun, spoke of harmony with all creation – Brother Sun, Sister Moon, and even Sister Death. He understood that harmony wasn’t just about peaceful coexistence but also recognizing the divine thread connecting all living things. This Franciscan vision of universal kinship calls us to see harmony not as an end goal but as a way of being in the world.

Consider Molly, sitting at her kitchen table early one morning, tears falling silently onto a recently placed plate. The weight of yesterday’s harsh words with her daughter feels like a stone in her heart. If she was present, the mystic Julian of Norwich might tell her, “All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” But how does Sarah find her way to that place of harmony?

Perhaps the answer lies in how dolphins move through the water – not fighting the current, but finding their path within it. The 13th-century Angela of Foligno would understand Sarah’s pain. She spoke of finding God not despite our suffering but through it. The harmony we seek isn’t about erasing our feelings but about weaving them into a bigger tapestry. The tapestry of our lives.

In the Christian contemplative tradition, harmony often emerges in the space between our breaths, in the pause between our thoughts. The Desert Fathers and Mothers knew this well. They sought not to escape the world’s discord, but to find the underlying harmony beneath it all. Meister Eckhart preached that this harmony already exists within us – we need only to clear away what is blocking us from experiencing it.

For Molly, harmony might begin with acknowledging the love which is the underbelly, that underlying her pain. The very depth of her hurt speaks to the intensity of her connection with her daughter. Like the dolphins who never truly sleep but rest one hemisphere of their brain at a time, she can hold both her sadness and her hope in a delicate balance.

St. Clare of Assisi, who understood the power of contemplative harmony, might guide Sarah to her mirror – not the physical one on her wall, but the mirror of Christ’s love in her heart. There, she might see that harmony doesn’t require perfect conditions. It requires only our willingness to remain open to grace, even in our brokenness; particularly when we feel broken.

As the morning light grows stronger, Molly finds that harmony isn’t about returning to yesterday’s peace. It’s about finding today’s rhythm, even if it comes with tears. The dolphins know this – each day brings its own song, its own dance, its own way of moving through the waters.

Molly’s Dawn

The morning coffee grows cold

And memories of yesterday’s storm

Ripple across the surface of the lake which is her mind.

She watches sparrows outside the window,

Their morning dance is a reminder

That harmony doesn’t require perfection.

As they stumble around looking for seeds of nourishment.

Meanwhile, Molly looks inside for

movement.

breath.

Just the courage to begin again.

Her tears now mixed with a purpose,

As rain joining the sea,

Finding its way home to something larger,

An ocean of love.

This is how we learn to swim

In deeper waters,

Where harmony isn’t just a word

But a way of being.

Molly rises,

Picking up her phone,

Typing: “I love you, even when we disagree.”

And waits.

The dolphins would understand –

How the pod moves as one

Through both calm seas and storms,

Never losing their song.