Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning

Monday, November 12, 2018

transforming our pain

All of us experience the absurd, the tragic, the nonsensical, the unjust… if we cannot find some way to transmute our wounds into sacred wounds, we invariably become cynical, negative or bitter… if we do not transform this pain we will most assuredly transmit it, usually to those closest to us…
                                                                        Richard Rohr

In those quiet moments
As the wind blows in the firs
And the snow falls

Sometimes when the monkey brain quiets
And in the relative calmness thoughts emerge from their hiding places
Deep within my soul

I realize just how much life has touched me
for good and for ill

I realize that I have been shaped and molded
By all that has transpired

There have been victories that have built me up,
given me reason for pride
And there have been failures and fears that placed me
Among the walking wounded

And what I have come to understand
that it is absolutely critical, for me to be aware
of that which I carry with me

for what I carry I share
knowingly or not

If I carry pain, I share pain
If I carry hate, I share hate
If I carry fear, I share fear

What I carry I pass on, to those around me

That is not all bad
For if I carry love, that is what I pass on
If I carry hope, or joy, or peace, that too

It is all contagious!

There is nothing wrong with any of it
Life happens, and we are always moving from joy to anger
From peace to fear, from love to hate

But we must choose what we carry
And that we do not want to pass along, we must allow to be transformed
We must hold it, accept it,
We must release it, and allow it thus to be changed

Just as Jesus held on to his pain, his fear, his anguish
And allowed it to become resurrection

What is it I hang on to?
You can see it in what I pass on!
What is it you hang on to?
You can see it in what you pass on!

This is why I feel so much compassion these days
For the fearful hoarders
And the angry haters
For they are merely passing on their own misery

I will always be a mixed bag
There will always be times when what I pass on, is my wounds

But there will also be times when what I pass on is love, and healing, hope and peace
When my wounds become sacred
And an instrument for not only my own healing
But for the healing of those around me

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