Cris CSABC in her comment yesterday put this piece in from John O’Donohue, a blessing for a friend on the arrival of illness:
May you find the wisdom to listen to your illness:
Ask it why it came? Why it chose your friendship?
Where it wants to take you? What it wants you to know?
What quality of space it wants to create in you?
What you need to learn to become more fully yourself
That your presence may shine in the world. John O’Donohue
That probably will make no sense to most people especially to ones that just got a diagnosis of something serious. It doesn’t fit with the anxiety and the fear. It doesn’t fit with the fighting and the battling that one is supposed start doing. But it points the way to something else.
And this is the something else that I had fallen into and that we have been kicking around here at the blog for five years trying to figure out. The idea that disease is something more than disease. Or that suffering is something more than suffering. That all this rigmarole has a purpose beyond…
Off I go. Henriette and some other visitors coming this afternoon for walk and tapas. Time now to get things done before that.
rigmarole loves, Felipé.
Here it is complete…
For a friend in the arrival of illness, John O’Donohue (The Book of Blessings)
Now is the time of dark invitation
Beyond a frontier that you did not expect;
Abruptly, your old life seems distant.
You barely noticed how each day opened
A path through fields never questioned,
Yet expected, deep down, to hold treasure.
Now your time on earth becomes full of threat;
Before your eyes your future shrinks.
You lived absorbed in the day-to-day,
So continuous with everything around you,
That you could forget you were separate;
Now this dark companion has come between you.
Distances have opened in your eyes.
You feel that against your will
A stranger has married your heart.
Nothing before has made you
Feel so isolated and lost.
When the reverberations of shock subside in you,
May grace come to restore you to balance.
May it shape a new space in your heart
To embrace this illness as a teacher
Who has come to open your life to new worlds.
May you find in yourself
A courageous hospitality
Toward what is difficult,
Painful, and unknown.
May you learn to use this illness
As a lantern to illuminate
The new qualities that will emerge in you.
May the fragile harvesting of this slow light
Help to release whatever has become false in you.
May you trust this light to clear a path
Through all the fog of old unease and anxiety
Until you feel arising within you a tranquility
Profound enough to call the storm to stillness.
May you find the wisdom to listen to your illness:
Ask it why it came. Why it chose your friendship.
Where it wants to take you. What it wants you to
know.
What quality of space it wants to create in you.
What you need to learn to become more fully
yourself
That your presence may shine in the world.
May you keep faith with your body,
Learning to see it as a holy sanctuary
Which can bring this night-wound gradually
Toward the healing and freedom of dawn.
May you be granted the courage and vision
To work through passivity and self-pity,
To see the beauty you can harvest
From the riches of this dark invitation.
May you learn to receive it graciously,
And promise to learn swiftly
That it may leave you newborn,
Willing to dedicate your time to birth.
Cris ~ thank you so much for this. It is so profound, unbelievable really. I’ve never seen this before but on the other hand it hasn’t been so far away. I’m posting it in full today. It is vital to know you loves, Felipé.