Settling In

Those of you who are on Diana Butler Bass' email list have probably seen this, but it is such a rich offering that I felt I really needed to share.  The photograph, from a couple of days ago, was taken through our dining room window. I did not want to open it, or walk outside because I knew any movement would disturb the doves. Sometimes lesser quality just might be the better way. In the past few days we have had quite a few birds in our backyard, and I am sorry I have not yet put up a birdfeeder. That will be my project for next month.  Fortunately, a neighbor has one a few yards over, and another neighbor has left persimmons on their tree. 

The attached photograph is not a black and white photograph. Although many of my photographs over the years have been in vivid color, this time of year my eyes and heart yearn to rest easy among darker shades. Our souls need the rhythm of light and dark: spring's tender new shades of just being born growth, summer's vibrant hues in full array, autumn's oranges, yellows, and golds, and winter's greys that call us to silence.  The winter solstice will be at 7:27 p.m.Pacific Time on Thursday. If you can, take a moment and give thanks for the good order of heaven and earth. Yes, even in these times. Maybe especially in these times.  

Blessings this winter solstice and always.   

Light cannot see inside things.
That is what the dark is for:
Minding the interior,
Nurturing the draw of growth
Through places where death
In its own way turns into life.

In the glare of neon times,
Let our eyes not be worn
By surfaces that shine
With hunger made attractive.

That our thoughts may be true light,
Finding their way into words
Which have the weight of shadow
To hold the layers of truth.

That we never place our trust
In minds claimed by empty light,
Where one-sided certainties
Are driven by false desire.

When we look into the heart,
May our eyes have the kindness
And reverence of candlelight.

That the searching of our minds
Be equal to the oblique
Crevices and corners where
The mystery continues to dwell,
Glimmering in fugitive light.

When we are confined inside
The dark house of suffering
That moonlight might find a window.

When we become false and lost
That the severe noon-light
Would cast our shadow clear.

When we love, that dawn-light
Would lighten our feet
Upon the waters.

As we grow old, that twilight
Would illuminate treasure
In the fields of memory.

And when we come to search for God,
Let us first be robed in night,
Put on the mind of morning
To feel the rush of light
Spread slowly inside
The color and stillness
Of a found word.

— John O’Donohue, “For Light”
as posted by Diana Butler Bass

   

image: San Leandro, December 2023. 

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