BREAKING THE DEAD SHELL OF YESTERDAYS

Morning Sun Breaking Through the Trees on The Hill Behind My House

                                                 A Morning Offering
                                                  by John O'Donohue

                                 I bless the night that nourished by heart

                                 To set the ghosts of longing free

                                 Into the flow and figure of dream

                                 That went to harvest from the dark

                                 Bread for the hunger no one sees.

                                 All that is eternal in me

                                 Welcomes the wonder of this day,

                                 The field of brightness it creates

                                 Offering time for each thing

                                 To arise and illuminate.

                                 I place on the altar of dawn:

                                 The quiet loyalty of breath,

                                 The tent of thought where I shelter,

                                 Waves of desire I am shore to

                                 And all beauty drawn to the eye.

                                 May my mind come alive today
                                 To the invisible geography
                                 That crosses me to new frontiers,
                                 To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
                                 To risk being disturbed and changed.

                                 May I have the courage today
                                 To live the life that I would love,
                                 To postpone my dream no longer
                                 But do at last what I came here for
                                 And waste by heart on fear no more.


From John O'Donohue's To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings (Doubleday, 2008).

SACRED JOURNEYS: FOLLOWING THE COMPASS OF YOUR SOUL

Shortly before his early death in 2008, John O'Donohue wrote a lovely book of blessings for the various passages and experiences that define the lives of most people. Among my favorites is the poetic blessing he wrote for those of us who have an irrepressible passion for travel.  As you will see, O'Donohue understood that there are spiritual dimensions to every journey, that encounters with strangers and strange places always hold the possibility of transformation.  He also understood something deeply important that I have learned from my own travel experiences, specifically, that travel can "touch that part of the heart that lies low at home."                                                   

                                                   For the Traveler
                                                           from
                      To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings

                                       Every time you leave home,

                                       Another road takes you 

                                       Into a world you were never in.

                                       New strangers on other paths await.

                                       New places that have never seen you

                                       Will startle a little at your entry.

                                       Old places that know you well

                                       Will pretend nothing

                                       Changed since your last visit.

                                       When you travel, you find yourself 

                                       Alone in a different way,

                                       More attentive now

                                       To the self you bring along,

                                       Your more subtle eye watching

                                       You abroad; and how what meets you

                                       Touches that part of the heart

                                       That lies low at home:

                                       How you unexpectedly attune

                                       To the timbre in some voice,

                                       Opening a conversation

                                       You want to take in

                                       To where your longing

                                       Has pressed hard enough 

                                       Inward, on some unsaid dark,

                                       To create a crystal of insight

                                       You could not have known 

                                       You needed

                                       To illuminate

                                       Your way.

                                       When you travel,

                                       A new silence

                                       Goes with you,

                                       And if you listen,

                                       You will hear

                                       What your heart would

                                       Love to say.

                                       A journey can become a sacred thing:

                                       Make sure, before you go,

                                       To take the time

                                       To bless your going forth,

                                       To free your heart of ballast

                                       So that the compass of your soul

                                       Might direct you toward

                                       The territories of spirit

                                       Where you will discover

                                       More of your hidden life,

                                       And the urgencies 

                                       That deserve to claim you.

                                       May you travel in an awakened way,

                                       Gathered wisely into your inner ground;

                                       That you may not waste the invitations

                                       Which wait along the way to transform you.

                                       May you travel safely, arrive refreshed,

                                       And live your time away to its fullest;

                                       Return home more enriched, and free

                                       To balance the gift of days which call you.

THE GRACE OF HIDDEN BEAUTY

Rain on Old Window 1

We have often heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  This is usually taken to mean that the sense of beauty is utterly subjective; there is no accounting for taste because each person's taste is different.  The statement has another, more subtle meaning: if our style of looking becomes beautiful, then beauty will become visible and shine forth for us. We will be surprised to discover beauty in unexpected places where the ungraceful eye would never linger.  The graced eye can glimpse beauty anywhere, for beauty does not reserve itself for special elite moments or instances; it does not wait for perfection but is present already secretly in everything.  When we beautify our gaze, the grace of hidden beauty becomes our joy and our sanctuary.

John O'Donohue

Beauty: Rediscovering The

True Sources of Compassion, Serenity, and Hope 

Rain on Old Window 2

BLESSINGS

I recently heard someone speak rather derisively of people who express gratitude for their blessings.  The thrust of the comment was that the very idea of "blessings" is an archaic, theological concept that has no place in the post-Enlightenment world.

While I have a wide tolerance for various theological points of view, I found myself somewhat puzzled by this comment because it seems to me that one can feel genuinely blessed and grateful without having a hardened position about the source of the blessings.  Isn't life itself a blessing, life with all of its infinite possibilities?  And what of the world of our inheritance—not the inevitable pain, frustration, and suffering—but love, beauty, music, art, the opportunity to become one of the co-creators of the world?  Are not these abiding blessings?  I believe they are, and I find that my heart sings in agreement when I read the following passage from John O'Donohue's fine essay, "To Retrieve the Lost Art of Blessing," which is found in O'Donohue's book, To Bless the Space Between Us.

There is a kindness that dwells deep down in things: it presides everywhere, often in the places we least expect.  The world can be harsh and negative, but if we remain generous and patient, kindness inevitably reveals itself.  Something deep in the human soul seems to depend on the presence of kindness; something instinctive in us expects it, and once we sense it we are able to trust and open ourselves . . . 

Despite all the darkness, human hope is based on the instinct that at the deepest level of reality some intimate kindness holds sway.  This is the heart of blessing.  To believe in blessing is to believe that our being here, our very presence in the world, is itself the first gift, the primal blessing. As Rilke says: Heir zu sein ist so viel—to be here is immense.  Nowhere does the silence of the infinite lean so intensely as around the form of a newly born infant.  Once we arrive, we enter into the inheritance of everything that has preceded us; we become heirs to the world.  To be born is to be chosen.  To be created and come to birth is to be blessed. Some primal kindness chose us and brought us through the forest of dreaming until we could emerge into the clearance of individuality, with a path of life opening before us through the world.

The beginning often holds the clue to everything that follows.  Given the nature of our beginning, it is no wonder that our hearts are imbued with longing for beauty, meaning, order, creativity, compassion, and love.  We approach the world with this roster of longings and expect that in some way the world will respond and confirm our desire.  Our longing knows it cannot force the fulfillment of its desire; yet it does instinctively expect that primal benevolence to respond to it.  This is the threshold where blessing comes alive. 

Einstein once suggested that the most important question a person can ask is whether the universe is a friendly place.  The answer, I suppose, would probably vary from person to person, depending on whether one is an optimist, a pessimist, or a downright cynic.  At the very least, however, I feel deeply that our lives enjoy the blessings of what John O'Donohue refers to as "primal kindness" or "primal benevolence."  Each person is free, of course, to provide his or her own theological tag to that kindness and benevolence, but, as always, it's not the label of a thing, but rather its essence, that befriends the questing heart.  We are the most improbable of creatures living on the most improbable of planets, and if we have nothing else, we always have the opportunity to transform ourselves and our world. That, for me, will always be a blessing worthy of my highest gratitude.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!

Merry Christmas to all of my great friends in the blogging community!  Your names are too numerous to mention individually, but you know who you are.  Throughout this year, you have lifted my spirits and enriched my life with your words, your images, your ideas, and your creativity.  Staying connected with you has been nothing less that soul-work for me, and I am deeply grateful for your stabilizing presence is a world that often seems to be imploding.

I extend my heartfelt wishes that you and your families will find great love, peace, and joy during the holiday season.  May you reap the abundant treasures envisioned by John O'Donohue in his fine blessing, For Equilibrium:

                             Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,

                             May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

                             As the wind loves to call things to dance,

                             May your gravity be lightened by grace.

                             Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,

                             May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

                             As water takes whatever shape it is in,

                             So free may you be about who you become.

                             As silence smiles on the other side of what's said,

                             May your sense of irony bring perspective.

                             As time remains free of all that it frames,

                             May your mind stay clear of all it names.

                             May your prayer of listening deepen enough

                             To hear in the depths the laughter of God.

PEACE AND JOY,

HERE AND NOW!

WAYS OF SEEING

Some books are so rich in content that they deserve a permanent place on one's desk or bedside table, ready to be seized the moment the owner needs a strong boost of wisdom. One such book for me is Anam Cara : A Book of Celtic Wisdom, by the Irish writer, John O'Donohue, who, unfortunately, died just two years ago at age fifty-two. O'Donohue was a well-educated but unassuming Irish writer who had enormous gifts of insight, as well as an extraordinary ability to express those insights in both prose and poetry.

While thumbing through Anam Cara yesterday, focusing on passages underlined in previous readings, I discovered a brief section that had not fully registered with me earlier, but which contains a brilliant discussion of how our ways of seeing affect the quality of our lives. "It is a startling truth," writes O'Donohue, "that how you see and what you see determine how and what you will be."

To determine one's own pattern of seeing, O'Donohue calls upon each of us to ask a simple question: "What way do I behold the world?" Do we see the world through fearful eyes, where everything and every person is perceived as a threat? Do we see the world through greedy eyes, where everything can be possessed at a certain price? Do we see the world through judgmental eyes, where everything and every person is rigidly defined and limited by our prejudices and preconceptions? Do we see the world through resentful eyes, elevating our own entitlements while condemning others for theirs? Do we see the world through indifferent eyes, where our capacity for compassion is trumped by cynicism and despair? Do we see the world through inferior eyes, where everyone is perceived as superior to ourselves? Or can we remove the lens of fear, the lens of greed, the lens of prejudgment, the lens of resentment, the lens of indifference, the lens of inferiority -- and then begin to see the world through eyes of love? Can we ever accept St. Augustine's profound but simple advice: "Love and do what you will."

How we see determines who we are, but who we are can always be changed by altering the way we see. Understanding this, suggests O'Donohue, may "bring you self-knowledge and enable you to glimpse the wonderful treasures your life secretly holds."

The Gaelic words used in the title of the book, Anam Cara, mean "soul friend." No better words can be found to describe its author, John O'Donohue.