Come, Come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving.
It doesn’t matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times.
Come, yet again, come.
~Rumi~
(Artwork: Reaching Out a sketch by akemimiu at DeviantArt)
They’ll take you places you didn’t want to go,
and see things you never wanted to see,
but be not afraid,
for they are there with you,
for everything.
~~~
Years ago – quite possibly more than 10 years ago – I found the above (unattributed) quote on a blog.
So I wrote that quote down in the daily paper journal I kept, as I did not have my own blog at that time.
And though I could not put my finger on why this quote resonated with me so long ago
it occurred to me this morning that it pretty much sums up
what
spirit-work
feels like.
I am not a fan of New Year’s Eve. I’ve never been a fan of New Year’s Eve.
So, I was delighted to see such an apt quote on my social media feed today..being the last day of December, the last day of 2017.
Like Sam Shepard, I detest endings….but perhaps it is simply that my perception is faulty.
May 2018 be a worthy beginning for all of us ❤
I don’t think people have demons.
I think they have themselves and things they aren’t ready to be honest about yet.
It is not easy to come to grips with the fact that we’re capable of hurting people with the same instrument we love them with.
The heart is a hungry wolf
and it is made of glass.
~King (Austin) Longton~
(Artwork: wolf heartline by linhopereira on DeviantArt)
I woke up this morning to this meme tile shared by Word Porn:
And Oh Gods did I need the encouragement of this message today.
Maybe you do as well?
❤
“You took my hand and drew me to your side, made me sit on the high seat before all men, till I became timid, unable to stir and walk my own way; doubting and debating at every step lest I should tread upon any thorn of their disfavour.
I am freed at last!
The blow has come, the drum of insult sounded, my seat is laid low in the dust.
My paths are open before me.
My wings are full of the desire of the sky.
I go to join the shooting stars of midnight, to plunge into the profound shadow.
I am like the storm-driven cloud of summer that, having cast off its crown of gold, hangs as a sword the thunderbolt upon a chain of lightning.
In desperate joy I run upon the dusty path of the despised; I draw near to your final welcome.
The child finds its mother when it leaves her womb.
When I am parted from you, thrown out from your household, I am free to see your face.
– from FRUIT GATHERING, by Rabindranath Tagore (May 1861 ~ August 1941)
[Translated from Bengali to English by Rabindranath Tagore]
Published in 1916
~~~
And suddenly…I understood.
Because He is the fire
He is asking me to burn.
