I ran into a friend yesterday. He told me, “I’m on my way to buy your book.”
He that lacks the time to mourn, lacks the time to mend. Shakespeare
There’s a time for departure, even when there’s no certain place to go.
Tennessee Williams
Home is a place where you can catch a dream and ride it to the end of the line and back. Where you can watch shadow and light doing a tight little tango on a wooden floor or an intoxicated moon rising through an empty window. Home is a place to become yourself. It’s the right spot, the bright spot, or just the spot where you can land on your feet or recline in a tub or sparkling brew if you’re so inclined. It’s a place of silence where harmony and chaos are shuffled like a deck of cards and it’s your draw. It’s somewhere you can close a door and open your heart. Where the Heart Is
2 Comments
>You said, "The pause may not 'set everything right.'" and that maybe the pause is about "mourning our loss. . .our requirement for closure and tidiness and perfection."
So absolutely true. Not only is this a "lost understanding" (at best it's an ignored one, especially in the "bumper sticker" solution world we live in), but when it does wash up on the shore of our lives like a message in a bottle waiting for us to uncork it and truly "see," we refuse its wisdom–mea culpa, too.
I admit it's not a very comforting truth and there's a measure of melancholy spirit associated with it, but that doesn't make it less true.
>Yes, about the melancholy. We wish to disconnect from anything that feels "negative." We have the wrong measurements. We choose negative versus positive rather than true (authentic) versus artificial / manufactured (untrue).
We are still learning that wisdom and truth happen not just (or only) in words (comprehension), but when we "live into" the experience. . .which may mean embracing the chaotic, the untidy and the mystery.