Who will speak for the birds when the trees are no longer there?

 

Midlife

”I think midlife is when the universe gently places her hands upon your shoulders, pulls you close, and whispers in your ear:
I’m not screwing around. It’s time. All of this pretending and performing – these coping mechanisms that you’ve developed to protect yourself from feeling inadequate and getting hurt – has to go.
Your armor is preventing you from growing into your gifts. I understand that you needed these protections when you were small. I understand that you believed your armor could help you secure all of the things you needed to feel worthy of love and belonging, but you’re still searching and you’re more lost than ever.
Time is growing short. There are unexplored adventures ahead of you. You can’t live the rest of your life worried about what other people think. You were born worthy of love and belonging. Courage and daring are coursing through you. You were made to live and love with your whole heart. It’s time to show up and be seen.”
Brené Brown

Start Close In.

Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

Start with
the ground
you know,
the pale ground
beneath your feet,
your own
way to begin
the conversation.

Start with your own
question,
give up on other
people’s questions,
don’t let them
smother something
simple.

To hear
another’s voice,
follow
your own voice,
wait until
that voice

becomes an
intimate
private ear
that can
really listen
to another.

Start right now
take a small step
you can call your own
don’t follow
someone else’s
heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in,
don’t mistake
that other
for your own.

Start close in,
don’t take
the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

 

© David Whyte

How we write.

“For it would seem – her case proved it – that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.”

Virginia Woolf – Orlando

 

Secrecy versus discretion.

What is the difference between keeping a secret and being discreet?

I was asked the question. It’s an important question, but I’d never thought about it.

Think about it before you read what I have to say below…

 

Here’s my conclusion:

Secrecy contains a demand: “you must keep a secret”. A demand by one person to another.

Discretion, on the other hand, is voluntary. Someone tells me something which they don’t share with others. I treat this information with discretion, choosing to protect their privacy, or vulnerability. Discretion contains love. Secrecy doesn’t.

 

 

 

Breathe

I choose the number 46 and drew this card. This is the photo I received.

The second I saw it, I said: “Shit!”

I knew exactly what it meant. Exactly.

I am the man in the water. I am holding my breath, staying in a situation that keeps me mediocre. In a moment, I will surface and take a huge gasp of fresh air. And I will really live.

That is what’s waiting for me. If I just stop holding my breath.

It’s time to let go and breathe.

Thank you Tal for taking me on this journey.

Hiding

is a way of staying alive. Hiding is a way of holding ourselves until we are ready to come into the light. Even hiding the truth from ourselves can be a way to come to what we need in our own necessary time. Hiding is one of the brilliant and virtuoso practices of almost every part of the natural world: the protective quiet of an icy northern landscape, the held bud of a future summer rose, the snow bound internal pulse of the hibernating bear. Hiding is underestimated. We are hidden by life in our mother’s womb until we grow and ready ourselves for our first appearance in the lighted world; to appear too early in that world is to find ourselves with the immediate necessity for outside intensive care.

Hiding done properly is the internal faithful promise for a proper future emergence, as embryos, as children or even as emerging adults in retreat from the names that have caught us and imprisoned us, often in ways where we have been too easily seen and too easily named.
We live in a time of the dissected soul, the immediate disclosure; our thoughts, imaginings and longings exposed to the light too much, too early and too often, our best qualities squeezed too soon into a world already awash with too easily articulated ideas that oppress our sense of self and our sense of others. What is real is almost always to begin with, hidden, and does not want to be understood by the part of our mind that mistakenly thinks it knows what is happening. What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence.

“Hiding is an act of freedom from the misunderstanding of others. Hiding is the radical independence necessary for our emergence into the light of a proper human future.”

 

Hiding is an act of freedom from the misunderstanding of others, especially in the enclosing world of oppressive secret government and private entities, attempting to name us, to anticipate us, to leave us with no place to hide and grow in ways unmanaged by a creeping necessity for absolute naming, absolute tracking and absolute control. Hiding is a bid for independence, from others, from mistaken ideas we have about our selves, from an oppressive and mistaken wish to keep us completely safe, completely ministered to, and therefore completely managed. Hiding is creative, necessary and beautifully subversive of outside interference and control. Hiding leaves life to itself, to become more of itself. Hiding is the radical independence necessary for our emergence into the light of a proper human future.

…

HIDING
From CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.
2016 © David Whyte:

How I go to the woods

“Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”
― Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems Art

Christmas 2016

“Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought, doesn’t come from a store.”

2017 wishes: of dragons and dreams

Impossible wishes

I want 2 dragons like Daenerys Targaryen in Game of Thrones

I want to be able to talk to animals

I want to be able to talk to trees

I want to see my ‘meme’ again

I want to be able to live in South Africa knowing it’s a safe country with a bright future

I want to be 22 again, just for a day or two

I want all my animals to live until the day I die

 

Possible wishes

I want to be able to give my soul the space and time it asks, and live in a house on the beach in Portugal for 2 months, doing nothing but reading, thinking, writing and walking on the beach with my dogs.

I want to see all my dearest friends happy and healthy and totally enjoying their life.

I want my ‘poepies’ to have lots of fun on his motorbike and I want to see him believe (and go for!) his dream of organizing trips throughout Europe and Morocco.

I want my parents to be healthy and happy for many years to come.

I want to see my brothers again, several times please, during the year.

I want to start my new business and see it grow to a success beyond my wildest dreams.

I want to live a life in which I stay true to myself as much as possible.