i have been thinking about that tonight… in these overnight hours when i can not sleep though i desperately wish to sleep… that’s all i want… sleep.
Nobody here is perfect… says the song
i am trying to see the imperfections as history rather than flaws. i am trying to practice acceptance of my cracks and those in people with whom i share my path. i am trying to see value in all of it for what it is now – without fretting over how it was or should be or could be, and yet? Tonight i am absolutely sad… weighed down with a sadness that i cannot quite comprehend.
i am weary, i suspect. There is nothing about today that was terrible… nothing that i can point to and say, “There… right there… that made bat sad” but here i sit when i should be laying in my bed.
So, i journal and blog and try to see suffering for what it is… nothing more and nothing less.
But fuck… that is so much easier said than done.
Image Source: http://i.imgur.com/gSJQMxd.jpg
The House of Belonging
I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that
thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.
But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and I thought
it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,
it must have been
the first easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,
it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.
And
I thought
this is the good day
you could meet your love,
this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.
This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next
and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,
the tawny
close grained cedar
burning round
me like a fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.
This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.
This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.
There is no house
like the house of belonging.
~ David Whyte ~
nothing is perfect
and i am grateful for that
this way i can lean into everything
and create it
perfect means satisfied
imperfect means beauty
into the effort
we are all works
in progress but
what joy to feel
like we belong
and celebrate with
each other.
“this way i can lean into everything and create it”
Yes, crow… yes.