‘The words I say to you I say to me,’ I keep reminding myself of this when I am offering some wisdom to someone who is in need of encouragement, inspiration or listening.
We all need so much reminding. If we consider ourselves as spiritual beings in a physical body then it’s a long process of not getting caught up with our physicality, our materiality, the desires that serve our body, and finding our way towards honouring the other desires we cherish. The desire to offer who we are most honestly to the world. The desire to become fully who we are – as a spirit and not just a body. We need to remember this. Through conversations with each other, as well as through the meditation, contemplation and prayer that connect us with the larger world of spirit, we so very regularly need reminders.
These images of trees being supported in their growth moved me. Posted by a friend who leads creative tours to Japan, the attentive gardening practices in use touched me deeply. It takes a sensitive gardener to offer the support that’s required.
It was particularly the notion of receiving support which evoked a tender feeling within me. The desire for support has been particularly insistent lately, yet the longing to find a healthy and helpful form of peer support has been present for years. Reading of enviable practices in the book, Presence, a decade or so ago, I have been involved in support groups of various kinds. They have all been helpful but somehow I still didn’t feel the kind of ‘supportedness’ I longed for.
wait, you do not need to move now
wait, you are exactly where you need to be—
and the branch that crashed to earth behind you
and your car which needs repair
and the blisters on your feet
are asking you to wait—
to savour this fresh moment
this instant when something new unfurls
silently within the shelter
of a hidden part of you
you are aware of something
new and numinous
that clings not to the past but says,
you are luminous now
when you risk revealing
more than the shy edge of you,
forgive yourself for all that you are not
and perhaps will never be,
bask in the balm of that acceptance
so you father, mother, cherish
who you are right now—
and now is too short a word
for this long moment