Evading Ourselves

beesedum

 

danartistpoint7

 

Poetry may make us from time to time a little more aware
of the deeper, unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being,
to which we rarely penetrate;
for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
—T.S. Eliot

 

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wwutangle2

 

On the surface we appear a tangled mess much of the time – a jumble of feelings and desires, needs and wants.

Deeper down, there is the core of who we are in a place that can’t be seen.
We rarely dip in there, like a sore spot one is tempted to touch but avoids doing so because of its tenderness.

The bright light of a few well chosen words can ring us like a bell;
we are struck dumb that such clarity comes to a place so well hidden that it was easy to evade.

 

wwutangle

 

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Fathomless Mystery

 dandy10

dandy11

There is no event so commonplace
but that God is present within it,
always hiddenly,
always leaving you room to recognize Him
or not…

Listen to your life.

See it for the
fathomless mystery that it is.

In the boredom and pain of it no less
than in the excitement and gladness:
touch, taste, smell your way to the
holy and hidden art of it
because in the last analysis
all moments are key moments…..

and Life itself is Grace.
~Frederick Buechner from Now and Then- Listening to Your Life

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The Beauty of Longing

photo by Nate Gibson
photo by Nate Gibson
photo by Nate Gibson
photo by Nate Gibson

Are we to look at cherry blossoms only in full bloom,
the moon only when it is cloudless? 
To long for the moon while looking on the rain,
to lower the blinds and be unaware
of the passing of the spring –

these are even more deeply moving. 
Branches about to blossom
or gardens strewn with flowers
are worthier of our admiration.

~Yoshida Kenko

I know this longing as I know my own back yard~
waiting for a view of the mountain from my kitchen window

There are more days its snowy peak is hidden
than days it is blossom-stark floating cloud-like above the horizon of our barn roof

Visitors to the farm are too often told “the mountain is right there”
as I point to a bank of nondescript gray clouds

My loving and longing for it, my knowing it is always there, in hiding,
moves me more than the days it is simply given to me.

The beauty of anticipation,
confident of fulfillment to come
my thirstiness
to be slaked
my hunger to be
satisfied.

photo by Nate Gibson
photo by Nate Gibson
photo by Emily Gibson
photo by Emily Gibson