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Archive for April 3rd, 2020

One Body

It is not an idle thought that saw de we must care for each other.

It is not a moral platitude to place on a lovely card or to say when we are comfortably “fat and happy” or without a care.

It is not a quaint sentiment made to order for those looking to merely sound wise and then off they go to solitary activity.

We perish alone. This is the root fear of all people.

We were not made to be islands set apart without the tether of real connectedness. Only the hermits truly called to solitude know the deep truth of interdependence.

They feel closer to their communities of brothers and sisters in proportion to the depth of their solitude. They feel that yearning for true communion.

The other’s voice reminds us of our part in the the choir. The glimmer in their eyes reminds us of the first spark that cleared our vision; our first light.

I see the gift of Solitude now as conditioning to better hear the voices of my sisters singing of love and life, loss and remembrance.

How I yearn to see again the faces of my sainted parents, grandparents, baby sister, aunts and uncles. I strain hard to recall the sound of their laughs and the tembre of their voices.

“We don’t live alone. We are members of one body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon come when if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in fire and blood and anguish. Good night.” J B. Priestley, An Inspector Calls

I am reminded how precious this moment really is.

© The Harried Mystic, 2020 and Br. Anton, TSSF. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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Rainer Maria Rilke wrote:

Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Look, how tiny down there, look: the last village of words and, higher,(but how tiny) still one last farmhouse of feeling. Can you see it?

Feelings in the moment are so intense and all consuming. Whether irritation, gratification, awaiting delivery of a delayed package, anger, resentment, envy or desire, they loom large at first and then often simply evaporate.

Rilke captures for me this human foible in a time when we are all learning scarcity. Toilet paper is now an obsession along with paper towels. All the stores near us have been out of stock for days. It is the “ go to” topic of conversation along with whether or not we should all wear masks.

Altitude is our friend. We need to rise above the mass hypnosis of “Armageddon” and locate the nearest thing of beauty and give thanks. Take it in and savor it. Beauty is the antidote for fear and thoughts of pending annihilation. This simple moment is precious. The higher up the mountain we climb, the farther we can see across the valley.

Our hibiscus is blooming in our front yard, a flaming red flower, as is the delicate pink petals of the begonias in the backyard. The half crescent moon illuminates the night sky and a family of Ibis regularly stop by and walk across the lawn on many mornings. From up top of the hill, we can see the lake in the distance; a comforting scene.

Shifting perspective from looking from below to gazing from well above changes everything. With practice, we too can come to see, as Rilke saw, “ the tiny last farmhouse of (earlier) feeling.”

We come back to ourselves and the soul becomes ascendant once more.

© The Harried Mystic, 2020 and Br. Anton, TSSF. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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