The Journey.

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My parents have been here for the holidays. It’s been… hectic. So here’s this, since I don’t have time to write much. A friend posted this to facebook, and I absolutely died for it. Feels incredibly powerful, especially so close to the eve of a new year. Especially with the year I have just experienced. It’s almost as though this poem was written for me, at this time.

More later, obviously.

But in the meantime, I hope you are having the happiest of holidays.

The Journey

the journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice —
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do —
determined to save
the only life you could save.

– Mary Oliver


The Guest House.

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This poem really gets me. Both as a writer, and as a Dana. Enjoy.

acrowdofsorrowsThis being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi