at the roadside in the kneeling to drink
and the prayer you said, and the tears you shed
and the memory you held and the realization
that in this silence you no longer had to keep
your eyes and ears averted from the place
that could save you, that you had been given
the strength to let go of the thirsty dust laden
pilgrim-self that brought you here, walking
with her bent back, her bowed head
and her careful explanations…Excerpt from “The Well”
From Pilgrim: Poems by David Whyte
©2012 David Whyte
I read The Course In Miracles many times before I really felt the comfort and wisdom of its words. During my immersion in the life and work of recovery in 2006, I kept that book close like it was a life jacket. I was learning to swim; I had no idea that it would teach me to walk on water too. Metaphors are invitations you know, to get to know the mystery that underpins them. And, I am devoted to that mystery above all else. I’m glad I didn’t quit before the miracles happened, because I’ve learned that miracles aren’t really events in time; they are the result of seeing things in a new light. The very same things have taken on new meaning and beauty in my life, and it makes me believe there was a purpose for the great time-out I’ve emerged from too. My soul sent me there, and I was on the sidelines with Angels. Believe me, I know that is true today. Nothing happens in God’s Universe by mistake, it just depends on how you look at things.
So, what happened to make me feel this way? My heart opened, I guess, and so did new eyes. I see things with a softer hue; from somewhere deep within me. It all happened here, in Kansas City Missouri; the “Heartland of America”. No mistake I landed here, even though I hadn’t a clue why I was moving here over six years ago. Such is the mystery of Grace; I moved to more than a new city, but to a new way of being in the world.
I recovered from a hopeless state of mind and body, thank God. Tomorrow night, I’m going to share my story at a place I landed six years ago, just weeks after my surrender. Sporting a hospital bracelet, shaking like a leaf, dirty, shamed and wearing the same clothes I had on the day I left weeks before. I was a scary mess. But, I was willing. That’s all I can say. Willing to face my pain; be forgiven, and loved.
I’m so glad to have good news to share. It makes my heart sing. Speaking of singing, here’s Josh Groban singing, Vincent.