I recently awakened with an image of a door that had been forced open. As I cautiously peered in, I could only see darkness. Being a somewhat practical person, and given the fact that the door face now had exposed and protruding nails, I placed a light in the doorway. However, the light was too big. I could not walk past it. This poem reminds me that I still need to explore this dream. I have not yet removed that light in order to step into the unknown.
Tyler, Jack, and I spent a few days over Thanksgiving with friends in northern Arizona. The night sky was beautifully illuminated by the moon and stars; the air was clear and cold. Silence was both everywhere, and nowhere; its exact location could not be located. Eternity felt like a friend.
My gratitude to the author of this poem, and to the person who shared it with me. "Bearing the truth." Such a potent phrase; such an important lesson.
Allow
There is no controlling life.
Try corralling a lightning bolt,
containing a tornado. Dam a
stream and it will create a new
channel. Resist, and the tide
will sweep you off your feet.
Allow, and grace will carry
you to higher ground. The only
safety lies in letting it all in –
the wild and the weak; fear,
fantasies, failures and success.
When loss rips off the doors of
the heart, or sadness veils your
vision with despair, practice
becomes simply bearing the truth.
In the choice to let go of your
known way of being, the whole
world is revealed to your new eyes.
Danna Faulds
image: Sunol, February 2016. I love this tree.
Meditation in the Christian Tradition, every Wednesday, 4:00 p.m. via Zoom
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