Maybe It’s Okay
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Not many words
Seem accessible
Today.
Cold.
Deeper
And
Colder
Cold
Roars
Toward
Us.
Maybe that’s
Just okay?
Maybe what
Is happening
Is
Just
Okay?
Maybe—
For all the
Times
I have said
That
To you,
Meant that
For you,
I can lean into that
For me?
Right here
And
Right
Now?
~~~
Rumi comes to mind and heart. Here is a translation by Coleman Barks, reminding us.
If you have heard this before, one time or one-hundred times, read it and hear it and feel it now, filtered through this present moment:
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
~~~
Each has been sent—
All of it
Sent
As a guide,
As a doorway,
As a moment
For
Healing.
~~~
Not that we wouldn’t want
To change
50 things
Instantly
In our lives,
In our
World?
Now!
Right now!
Right?
Are there
50 things
You would change
Now?
Okay, 5?
Maybe 1?
Yes, of course.
I would vote for:
INJUSTICE.
Let’s change that fucker.
Let’s live in a world
Where we all benefit
From goodness,
Where we all
Have equal and balanced
Chances
For safety and security
And
Emotional prosperity.
CRUELTY.
I would
Eject
That from
Our world.
And BULLYING.
Oh,
Bullying.
To rid our planet
Of
These
Abominations,
These
Twists
Of the
Human spirit.
NOW.
Yet,
How can it be—
There is so
Frigging much
To learn
From the
Injustice!
From Cruelty.
From Bullying.
So much to learn.
Each is
The doorway
Back
To
Justice.
To kindness.
To compassion.
~~~
And then, there is sorrow.
So much sorrow,
Here,
There
Everywhere.
Here is John O’Donohue, on Sorrow:
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.
~~~
Ah!!!
The function of sorrow.
Its organic nature
To wring itself out,
To integrate,
To open
To offer
The
Next
Blessed
Moment.
~~~
And now, from the slightly-addled-headachy- brain of Aruni—
Here’s a weirdo choice of song.
From yesteryear this song has followed me through the week. Both a favorite at Girl Scout Camp Archbald (YAHOO!), and the 60’s, it touches into my life now for no particular reason.
It never DAWNED on me, the essence of this song has kept itself hidden until now:
It’s a good night, a safe night, because the lion is sleeping.
The lion will not be prowling about the jungle, looking for toes and feet of sleeping children for a midnight snack.
The lion is sleeping. That is fabulous.
~~~
This song, originally written by Solomon Linda, is wrapped in some sketchy appropriation mess. Not a surprise.
If you are interested in some of its background, here is a link.
For today, I say, blessings to its origin, may we hear it with an open and grateful heart.
~~~
Dear Friends,
The lion prowls.
Then
The
Lion
sleeps.
The sorrow
Rises,
Falls,
To rise
Again.
Perhaps
Each
Is
Here
As a
Guide.
Perhaps
Each
Is
Life,
Your life,
My life
Showing up
To heal us.
Dear Friends,
With gratitude.
Stay blessed,
Aruni
Come to the Inner Quest Intensive.
Let’s practice together being with ourselves and each other.
Let’s create together the world in which we choose to live.