Sleep, Sunrise, & Silver Lining

Forgive the absurdity of the following. It was 4am and I felt inspired by my next door neighbor who had been listening to talk radio since three :)


Paper Wall


Thank you, dear stranger
Who's life sounds, through
Our shared wall bring
To my attention the
Sacrament of grey light
And shadow, before sun king
Rebels against the power
Of the crescent moon.

Thank you, dear neighbor
Whom I never see
Yet know your voice
Made familiar by intervals
Of eavesdropped chatter
And midnight mumblings.
From you learned I
The art of hearing.


Thank you, dear friend
For calling to mindfulness
My slumbering senses.
I could have missed
Without your aid the
Eternal, ethereal conversation
Of birds, too sacred
For the hours of day.

Thank you, and thanks
Again. To you
I Owe more than
Raccoon eyes at breakfast,
When he asks how I've slept. To
You, I owe
My wakeful senses.

Anam

I love Gaelic. It is the most beautiful and captivating language I have ever heard. One of my favorite authors, John O'Donohue (an Irishman of course), says of Gaelic that it is "...such a poetic and powerful language, it carries the Irish memory." Imagine it! A language, something so intangible yet so powerful and real that it can hold within itself the memory of a people. The ancient memory of the Irish people is cradled in the Gaelic language. How cool is that?

Though I don't speak Gaelic, there are a few words I have learned since my time in Ireland. One of my favorites is Anam, meaning soul. In the Celtic understanding, the soul is not something that resides in the physical body (the 'clay' body), rather the clay body resides in the presence of the soul. The light of the soul envelopes the body, shining through it. This might be the most beautiful picture of how the spirit of God enfolds us daily, by being present in our soul. The presence of God is not in us, rather it is engulfing us. It's not a little flame that lives inside us so much as it's a fire that surrounds us. That sounds kinda awesome to me...

the crickets have the answer

A chorus of bugs murmur outside my house, their voices floating in through our screen door. The sun set hours ago and as hard as I have tried, I can't focus on homework. A question plays in my head, like a broken record that repeats the same scrap of melody over and over....What are you doing Lord? I really don't get it...what are you doing? The night answers in wordless bug song and guitar strumming filters through a closed  door...look about you. take stock. watch me...and wait.


I am a planner. I like making 'To Do' lists every day, sometimes separate lists for each part of the day. I have separate lists of homework for each class, lists for free time, lists for grocery shopping, lists for paying bills and doing my budget. Lists for long-term and short-term life goals, lists of books to read, and my favorite, a bucket list. I do not like living without a plan. Just to clarify, in the end it doesn't bother me if the plan changes (my plans usually do. mostly because Jesus thinks He has a better idea. And let's face it, He's always right.) I like having a plan to give me direction so I can move forward in what I feel is an efficient manner. And I expect my plan to get blown to smithereens at some point. I am OK with this. This is a system I understand.


Pondering the age old question of life post-college, it seemed reasonable to make a plan. Nothing big, just a little something to help me not freak out over the blank slate of the future. So I started concocting a plan....until that still small voice said stop. wait, what? but I like plans. Plans are good for me. They keep from getting stuck in ruts. That's good, right? no. but-- no buts. stop. What do I do without a plan? you don't need one. i got this. just watch me. don't make a plan.


This was a new experience for me. Usually I make my little plan, start walking and He gives me a shove in whatever direction I am supposed to go. Now though, it seems God has a new tactic. Whatever is coming, I feel like it's going to be more than a shove can guide me through. So when asked the question (and it's asked often), the conversation goes something like this:


person: so, what are your plans after graduation?
me: I don't have a plan. Jesus said I'm not allowed.
person: *insert blank stare*


I desperately want to make a plan. But I won't. For some reason that I do not see or comprehend, God is asking me to trust in His faithfulness. He is faithful. He provides for the crickets outside my door and how much more will he provide for me? I have no idea what is coming. Wether it's a wild adventure on the other side of the globe or simply ordinary days spent pursuing the lover of my soul, I am getting excited. I am terrified because I do not understand. And I am excited, because I do not have to. 

may the clay dance

This speaks so strongly to my soul, I just had to share it!

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

~John O'Donohue, Beannacht, Echoes of Memory