Your heart is a well and sometimes when you wake in the morning and send your little bucket of strength down into it, to fill with good cheer and faith, it returns to you empty. It is a sudden and unexpected grief, and you dont know why there is suddenly no great hope you can drink from, to help you feel stronger. Your lips are parched and so is your spirit, so you lay on your stomach and peer down into the depths of your well. You let your hands feel around the brickwork, expecting drips or condensation. There isnt anything at all, and it makes you feel alone. What will you do? How can you cope now there is no reservoir of grace for you to draw on? You realize how much you rely on what that little bucket brings you everyday. How much it takes the edge off your pain, off your thirst, for the life you have lost. You understand then, how much it is you, and your silent belief in tomorrow, that keeps the spark in you alive. This is when you must go on breathing. That is your only task. One breath after another as though the sky might fall if you arent prepared to breathe into the world. You may believe the empty well wont ever fill again but you are wrong. There will be rain. The gentle rain of kindness falling from the hearts of others or the soft drops of self-compassion as you allow yourself the space to feel. There is always the light drizzle of time, as it does its slow work of restoration and the fierce downpour of love rattling the rooftops inside of you with joy. One day soon, you will wake and find the well is overflowing and day by day, you can fill yourself up again with all the good things it contains. The things which make you brave enough to keep on going. It might just be that you needed to weep for a while or be still; that you needed to rage and hold your sorrow against your eyes like a dark rag. That is a way of healing too. ----by Sarah-Louise Feather Jordan
Posted on: Wed, 21 May 2014 22:49:39 +0000
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