January third it is. Not a day with a special name but still rich in leftovers and other benefits of the holidays. Rebecca and I are fighting with colds and a particular nasty type this year. So, here I am trying to dig around for something upbeat and inspirational and all I got so far is leftovers. Hmmm.
I’ll just have to dig deeper, hey? What do I have in my bag of tricks? One quote that will make due always is the old Jewish one, “This too shall pass.” But I could say, “Yea, well when?” Which brings up the idea that Laura brought up of the fact that we should practice Patience with a capital P. There is something vital to be learned through the practice of Patience.
My mind brings up the vision of the Coke machine along the foggy trail that we talked about recently. The Coke machine that we were talking about kicking because it wasn’t working fast enough. How do we get some perspective on the big picture so that we can develop a Patience that really has a calital P?
A Patience that will really serve us well.
Yea, all days aren’t ones of glory. What about these Janurary thirds that I spend with a bad cold? Can I learn something important here? Hmmm. Love, Felipe.
Yes, the dark days without sparks of inspiration and full of ill-health and damp weather and what seems to be dead quiet on the spiritual front–
This is what some cultures say is the time when the gods are silent and we need to carry on “alone” until spring. A time to put to practice what we learned and are learning since the last spring; to do what we know, to do what we’re just learning– to learn and stretch our capabilities as humans trying our best, I suppose. Then when the silence ends, we’ll be in a new place, the place we were guided to and strove for over the last season; ready — hungry and eager because of the silence and the challenges we managed– for the guidance and challenges the next season will bring.
Just a thought. It’s helped me in the past, although this season of dark quietude seems especially rough edged, rocky and slippery. Like the compass needle got damaged. What to do? (go back to the top and re-read? Guess so.)
Spoken like a true Viking. All a part of being a being I guess; can’t be at the State Fair everyday. Here I am lying on a leather couch, in a ultilight synthetic sleeping bag and playing on the the latest iPad mini so really how bad could things be? I better shut my pie hole and keep marching, hey?