~ In a world that moves so quickly, I endeavor to offer a place to experience a brief respite, in your daily round. I welcome your comments, and appreciate your visit. ~ Mile buiochas!
~ Siochain De'agus Slainte'!
On the surface you may be amiable and flexible, but in your Dark Night you may discover the very important ingredient of toughness. Oscar Wilde provides a good example. He was a brilliant man who played the role of society's fool and fop. He dressed as a dandy and had the reputation of being an expert on superficial style. But he was actually nothing of the sort. Wilde was a thoughtful and religious man, a man of principle who spent years in jail simply on account of his homosexuality. From prison he wrote one of the most remarkable testaments ever written, De Profundis (Out of the Depths), a letter any person suffering a Dark Night might appreciate. The letter is apropos of our theme:
I have been in prison for nearly two years. Out of my nature has come wild despair; an abandonment to grief;...terrible and impotent rage; bitterness and scorn; anguish that wept aloud; misery that could find no voice; sorrow that was dumb...
Now I find hidden somewhere away in my nature something that tells me nothing in the whole world is meaningless, and suffering least of all. That something hidden away in my nature, like a treasure in a field, is humility.
28 November, 2016
~Oscar Wilde's 'De Profundis' can be found in its entirety, on the Internet, at various sites. It is a spendid essay, and well worth the reading, especially if you are experiencing Dark Nights of the Soul.
~ Hold me close, but not to tightly. Talk to me, but hear my voice. Warm me, but do not smother my dreams. Cool me, but do not freeze my mind. Protect me, but do not stifle my learning. Help me, but do not forget my abilities. Don't let me be lonely, but accept when I need to be alone. Be my love, but allow me to be myself.
~ In my Life, I never know what is going to transpire. Seeds of possibilities fly like the milkweed pod bursting open, releasing a thousand White Wing Wishes on a blustery autumn wind. Storms for these podmates only dare their bold flights to reach further distances. Touching down to Earth, these seedroot visions Grow even through hard cement cracks or abandoned fields of Dreams. ~Waiting for their bloom, the Monarch Butterflies find the tender shoots in the sidewalks or empty meadows because Life cannot resist itself and there is a Hunger for the Mother's milk Nature gives. There amidst the underbellies of the soft green leaf, a caterpillar Knows. She Knows. She spins a cocoon streaked with Gold more Precious than metal, for an oncoming Metamorphosis no one can yet see, yet alone believe. ~ You and I are Spinning for the Future with our Hands. ~ We Know, that it is Time and We are Ready, though we may not yet know how.