Wednesday, March 3, 2010


The day felt brittle. Time seemed caught in moments where fear and dreams collided in its passage. The earth was quiet in a place where peace begins to splinter.  In times like these we need to breathe. We need solitude. We need to listen to the whispers.

Rainer Maria Rilke understood when she wrote, "It is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be a reason the more for us to do it."

Sometimes we cry for a life that is no more and we try to accept that sometimes things happen for us, not to us. And for me, well I have to accept the gifts I have to offer the future. For it is in the listening to whispers that we learn we need to wake up and accept life with its pain, grief, and sorrow and downright cussed wrongness.  For as hard as this may be it  isn't something you want to miss or pass up.  For if you do, you miss life!  You miss growth and learning and compassion and ultimately passion. And it is then that you will find, in that place, that your soul can do the most for the world.  Only in solitude can healing begin - and wisdom and clarity and peace. 

You have to listen to the whispers you'll find in solitude and then let go of your story in order to move on - to prepare yourself for what is to come.  In the words of C.S. Lewis, "We tell stories to know we are not alone."  You are not alone.


"Hear what life is telling you. Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day."
Letters to a Young Poet - Rilke

Let us be silent, that we may hear the whispers of the gods.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
Now suddenly there was nothing but a world of cloud, and we three were there alone in the middle of a great white plain with snowy hills and mountains staring at us; and it was very still; but there were whispers.

Black Elk

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