Imagine a man and woman sitting on a beach, sharing their stories. They hardly know each other, they are just friends, new to each other, yet holding ancient keys. In between them rests Epiphany. Two years later there is emptiness, an empty chair, as they carry on with their lives. Their stories seem to cease. Are kept in silent symmetry. Time passes, and they go on producing, creating, living. They go on in faith, forgiving. Tears come and cease. Learning never seems to end. Is there a final word for this? A story that can be told out in the open? Maybe someday.
The silent heart of a woman rarely speaks, but when it does, it is a torrent, a tornado, a tsunami of consciousness. Creative, Loving, Whole. And when she lets go, it is as if the wave that once held her catches her and drags her along. Buried by her own quest. Afraid of the long-forgotten current or song. Oh song! Don’t break me, carry me out, release me and carry me along. I will not crumble, I will not quake. I can take the great tornado of my own Song. For I do not, will not sing alone!
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What causes this great change? This great awakening? Yes, it seems we must push ourselves, or be pushed to the brink, before we listen, we hear. I have no idea what combination of grace this rests on (miracles, magic, hard work, fate?), but in my experience it is always mixed with a bit of joy, and many tears.
Why do we cry? One woman asked me in our women’s circle. She almost felt left out, like she wasn’t working hard enough. But what makes me cry is deliverance, from the very “working hard enough”, trying too hard to hold it all together, keep everything sane and clear, to complete abandonment – of an old way, an old scheme, an old love, an old dream. It is earth shattering at times, and sublime. I don’t know what makes this happen, but I see it all the time. Its potential is in us all, and we are in it or ready for it, or not at all. No one can make us go there. We are strong enough if we are here, or we wouldn’t be here.
I am comforted by all your stories, and the pattern I see. Highly successful women and men reaching epiphany. It is time. What can we give? What can I do? Everything, and nothing. It will happen anyway. It is inevitable. Painful at times. Like a river running through me, jammed up by rocks, then bursting through. Oh! To be released from the earthly pleasures and pains! To be united again, and not suffer so. What is this pain? What is this suffering? Forgetfulness, and then unity. We will be there again, we will find our way back home. In each other, in a prayer, in hope, in letting go.
It seems today you wrote me. I feel it all. And yet, glory is still possible – true glory, and true pleasure – reaching for the greatest gift of all. The Miracle of You – the partner, the friend, the lover, the fighter, nature, dog, child, lover. It doesn’t matter who. They all seap through. It is YOU! We are craving for, inviting in. Whoever you are. Love us, guide us, (torture us!), heal our wounds. Never again will we be alone. We invite you in to a Harmony Song. Never again uninvited. United. Befriended. Friend to All. Amen.
Thank you all.
