Dear Starlight,
I am off schedule with Sunday Circle. Not according to my life only to my earlier expectations of my life. Last weekend we had a family emergency and now I just returned from a weekend with poet/philosopher, David Whyte, without internet. Not because there wasn’t supposed to be internet. It just wasn’t working, which was in another way working.
Before entering my house tonight my son began texting me.
“When are you going to be home? I need your help.”
He needed me to help coach him through being honest about a circumstance he was disproportionately embarrassed by. He was imagining someone’s judgment of his character because he had forgotten to disclose something that may or may not have been important for the person to know.
When I arrived home he was in the throws of torment. He began reading multiple text drafts followed by self-disparaging remarks.
From the outside it is simple. Just say the obvious truth which is obviously helpful for all parties. Honesty is the key to where you want to be.
We must learn to trust in a goodness that is greater than temporary discomfort.
I took a momentary break from perfecting his sentences and walked myself to the sunset at the river.
About four years ago I disclosed a secret to my therapist. One that I felt embarrassed by. I told her that I had a strong desire to watch the sunset every night, as if it was an absurd luxury that I should reconsider spending my time on. She looked at me and said, “What if that is the most important thing you do?”
Standing at the river watching the sun set, I texted my son:
“One of the most foolish mistakes in life is to do or be foolish out of fear of appearing foolish to others. This applies to everything big and small and is no small task.”
David Whyte started the weekend off by asking what if the idea we keep hidden, the one we think is the most foolish is the wisest after all?
PS. Here is a poem that David started our weekend with.
The bell and the blackbird
The sound of a bell
Still reverberating,
or a blackbird calling
from a corner of the field,
asking you to wake
into this life,
or inviting you deeper
into the one that waits.
Either way
takes courage,
either way wants you
to be nothing
but that self that
is no self at all,
wants you to walk
to the place
where you find
you already know
how to give
every last thing
away.
The approach
that is also
the meeting
itself,
without any
meeting
at all.
That radiance
you have always
carried with you
as you walk
both alone
and completely
accompanied
in friendship
by every corner
of the world
crying
Allelujah.