souls weep

The worst type of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see--the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived.

                                                                                       Katie McGarry, Pushing the Limits

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Sometimes our souls weep

We cannot help it

A young woman is crushed by a car

Driven by hate

A man is driven by hate

And he too is crushed by the weight and consequences of that hate

Each day starts with the sun rising

Beautiful

Powerful

And my souls says this day will not be like other days

But each day my heart descends from my chest into my stomach.

It soon seems as if nothing is right

All is falsehood, and greed, and hate

And I can no longer take another justification, another rationalization

I just can’t

And I say to myself

It will be OK

And I say to myself, maybe the Sacred has this

But I am stunned by the magnitude of my grief, I am alone in this pain

And I carry it

In my heart

And it tears and rends, and scars my soul

As if I had not done enough

On my own

To wound myself

And those scars

Those scars, disfigure my heart

My soul

Until my soul contains more scar tissue than life 

What does it take?

“We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe.”

                             Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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Disordered minds

Disordered hearts

Disordered souls

What does it take to carry a torch in the darkness

Seeking to create terror

What does it take to carry a shield marked with the symbols of hate

And to strike out violently

No on behalf of justice

But on behalf of prejudice and hate?

What does it take to drive a car into a mass of people

Killing and maiming

What does it take to tweet a response

That refuses to call white, domestic terrorism what it is?

What does it take?

A disordered mind?

A disordered heart?

A disordered soul?

What does it take?

I saw God

Where is the door to God?

In the sound of a barking dog

In the ring of a hammer

In a drop of rain

In the face of

Everyone

I See

                             Hafiz

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I saw God today….

Really!

It wasn’t easy

For god was not in the twist face of Trump threatening war

Nor in the faces of angry white people, whose privilege is slipping

Nor in their torches, instruments of terror

But God was seen

In the smiling goofy face of my puppy

In the red sun rising

And in the clouds scattered in the sky

God was see in the doe

And in her twin babies

And in the cat

Slinking through the vibrant green field

God was seen in the people huddled in a church in Virginia

Opposing racism

Yes, I saw God today

I hope God shows up tomorrow

At the end of all

Stillness is vital to the world of the soul. If as you age you become more still, you will discover that stillness can be a great companion. The fragments of your life will have time to unify, and the places where your soul-shelter is wounded or broken will have time to knit and heal. You will be able to return to yourself. In this stillness, you will engage your soul. Many people miss out on themselves completely as they journey through life. They know others, they know places, they know skills, they know their work, but tragically, they do not know themselves at all. Aging can be a lovely time of ripening when you actually meet yourself, indeed maybe for the first time. There are beautiful lines from T. S. Eliot that say:

'And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time.'

John O'Donohue

Excerpt from ANAM CARA

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The clinical notes are done

The car has found its way home

The TV is off

Horses are fed

And dog and cats sprawl on the porch in the heat of

a hot august night

slowly the mind slows

and the body settles

quietly soul does inventory

thoughts wander randomly

and carelessly through the mind

thoughts about things finished

and unfinished

about love experienced and yearned for

good memories flourish

but memories of past hurts as well

and from time to time

feelings of failure

or resentment surface

but in the silence I watch those thoughts drift by

like boats on a river

and quietly just work to let them go

drifting away

meanwhile the mountain looms into the sky

a fawn awkwardly stumble after its mother

and a hawk screams its protest

at my foolishness

and I suspect

yours too

and I return

to stillness

What we Carry in the heart

“A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart.”

                              Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: First Part

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What do I see out there in the world?

What do I notice?

Perhaps what I see reflects the state of my own soul

Perhaps that fear I see reflects my own fear

That pain, my own pain

That anger my own anger

Or perhaps it is not what is already there

But what I fear might makes its home there

Perhaps I worry that I might become greedy

Hungry for power

A person of the lie

Its possible

It is also possible that I notice that

Which violates my soul

Because I notice the neglect of the poor

I notice the abandonment of the vulnerable

I see injustice and inequity

And hate, and prejudice

I see people violating those who cannot

Help or protect themselves

And what I hope I carry in my heart

Is a love of justice and equity

And acceptance, and generosity

What I hope lives there

At the center of who I am,

Is a desire to help and protect

Whatever is there,

I am sure some cultivation is called for,

And some weeding too!

nothing in return

“You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those who can do nothing for him.”

                             Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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Who do I see each day

I look at many people

But who do I see?

It seems so simple really

to really notice another

after all

they are right there in front of me

but do I see the fear

the hurt

the pain

do I understand the questions

the doubt?

and how do I respond

not toward those who approval I want, or need

not toward those who are affluent or powerful

but to that person who is just there

just there

being who they are

being tired and depleted?

Do I stop

focus

listen

to I act in a caring way?

do they feel as if I care?

I wonder

I truly

wonder

Time to sit

One day, a younger monk approached his mentor, frustrated at what seemed to him to be an impossible task of knowing and feeling the presence of God.

"How may I experience God?" he asked.

Merton responded: "How does an apple ripen? It just sits in the sun."

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I can choose

The old man thought

To sit in the sun

Or sit in the darkness

In the darkness I will be alone with my thoughts

Which are not good company

Oh, perhaps the Sacred will be there too

But that is not where I usually find it

But it is rewarding sometimes

To sit in the shadowy abyss

And nurse my fear, my anger

In the sun, there will be times when I will be uncomfortable

But there I can see the mountain

And the trees

There I can hear the birds

And see them soar again the sky

There I find other people

And they find me

In the dark, it seems as though energy and hope flow into nothingness

In the light, it seems energy and love flow in

Oh yes, there is time to go into the shade

And time to rest

But if I want to find what I seek

Love, affection, warmth

Hope, forgiveness, joy

Sacred

I have to sit, patiently

And let all

Soak

in

the beginning of love

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image.”

                              Thomas Merton, The Way of Chuang Tzu

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I do not want to be judged

Certainly not

I do not wanted to be tolerated

As if I were a nagging pain

I don’t want to be loved in parts

(we like this, but frankly we don’t like that!)

I want to be loved the way I am

Accepted, completely

Oh I know, there are things that can be improved

And things that ought to be changed

I am not asking for blanket approval

Just loved, as I am

Perhaps with hope

Perhaps with patience

But loved

By someone

Anyone

you know

loved by a human (or two)

the way I am loved

thank God

by

God

Without love we die

The

Earth would die

If the sun stopped kissing her.

                                           Hafiz, The Gift

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In the heat of the summer

The plants soon wilt without water

And dogs without affection

Grow sorrowful,

And children, without nurture

Soon wilt

All creation needs

To be touched with warmth

And love

When we do not get kissed

When that is not there

No matter what else we have

Money

Power

Prestige

Success

We cannot waken to joy

We cannot fully live

And piece by piece

Day by day

We

die

Beautiful mystery

Most people don’t die at once… they died a bit at a time.

People die in bits and pieces.  A series of petit morts.  Little deaths

They lose their sight, their hearing, their independence.

Those are the physical ones.

But there’re others.  Les obvious, but more fatal.  They lose heart.  They lose hope

They lose faith.  They lose interest.

And finally, they lose themselves

                                                                        Louise Penny, A Beautiful Mystery

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we die a little bit at a time

the path we have trod is littered

with bits and pieces of our very self

we trod, and trod, and trod

moving toward that grand death

but dying each moment

fading

becoming less

a ghost

the walking dead are among us

there are times we wish it were simply over

that we could fade away

but there are other times

when we glimpse that fact

that each ending can become a beginning

perhaps the birth won’t be easy

it rarely is

but in each ending is the seed of

something new

it may be quite different from what

we asked for

or imagined

and we may fight both the death

and the birth

but death is only death

for those who hang on tightly to the old

and refuse to welcome what is next

even as we die and die and die again

we are merely waiting to be born

Take this child

O LORD JESUS CHRIST, MOST MERCIFUL, LORD OF EARTH WE ASK THAT YOU RECEIVE THIS CHILD INTO YOUR ARMS, THAT HE MIGHT PASS IN SAFETY FROM THIS CRISIS. AS THOU HAST TOLD US WITH INFINITE COMPASSION

                                                          Last Rites, Roman Catholic Church

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In this world of chaos, even terror

Where maladies fall upon the evil and the good

Alike

People are in crisis

Their heads are full of hideous thoughts

Their hearts are broken

Their souls are shredded

That mother who has lost her child

That man who has been fired from his job

That person battered by pain

And that person who has simply given up

The assaults come from everywhere

From the angry, the greedy

The cruel

From the toxic righteous

From parents, children

Friends, enemies

This morning I watched the Life Flight plane lift into the sky

Carrying the precious burden of a person

Clinging, perhaps tenuously to life

And it lifted into the hazy red sky

My heart cried out

Lord take this child

Take this child into your arms

Cover them with love

Infuse them with peace

Protect them, nurture them, heal them

And through this day

My heart repeated this refrain

Take this child

Hold this child