This week has seemed to be a particularly . . . ugly one. Fires and hurricanes and plague. Politicians encouraging the worst in us. I don't need to go on. You all know this. You all feel this. These are wearying days.
So I encourage you to dig deep, my friends. To turn off the news. To put down your phones. To stop scrolling. Go outside and see what's happening there. Renew your soul.
"Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature - the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter."
--- Rachel Carson, Silent Spring
Last night, as the sun was going down, I went out in my garden with the dogs . . . and I noticed these incredible rays shining through the trees. It made me forget the troubles of the world for a few minutes. It reminded me that there is more happening out there than what we see on our screens; what we hear in the news.
And then I turned around.
And saw this . . .
Among the weeds and plants dying back in my late summer garden, there was my little pond frog . . . nestled in the arms of Garden Buddha, basking in the sun's last rays for the day!
Could there be any better reminder . . . that we have a place in the world beyond the despair?
And, because it is Friday and Fridays still seem to be for poetry around here, here is a poem from you by another of my favorite poets, David Whyte.
Above the mountains
the geese turn into
the light again
on an open sky.
has to be
so you can find
the one line
Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire
has gone out
someone has written
in the ashes of your life.
You are not leaving.
Even as the light fades quickly now,
you are arriving.
It's especially important for us to remember that . . . we are not leaving right now (even as the light fades quickly); we are arriving. Dig deep, my friends. Keep looking for hope in the dark spaces.
My best wishes to all of you . . . for a weekend filled with peace and solace, time to rest -- and things that bring you joy. (And maybe some poetry, too.)
Don't forget to look for hope.
Today's poem was published in David Whyte: Essentials, edited by Gayle Karen Young Whyte, Many Rivers Press, 2020. Information about the poet can be found here.