thoughts on dropping the ball

November 16, 2010 Candace Morris 7 Comments

"It seems to me that almost all our sadnesses are moments of tension, which we feel as paralysis because we no longer hear our astonished emotions living. Because we are alone with the unfamiliar presence that has entered us; because everything we trust and are used to is for a moment taken away from us; because we stand in the midst of a transition where we cannot remain standing. That is why the sadness passes: the new presence inside us, the presence that has been added, has entered our heart, has gone into its innermost chamber and is no longer even there, - is already in our bloodstream. And we don't know what it was. We could easily be made to believe that nothing happened, and yet we have changed, as a house that a guest has entered changes. We can't say who has come, perhaps we will never know, but many signs indicate that the future enters us in this way in order to be transformed in us, long before it happens. And that is why it is so important to be solitary and attentive when one is sad: because the seemingly uneventful and motionless moment when our future steps into us is so much closer to life than that other loud and accidental point of time when it happens to us as if from outside. The quieter we are, the more patient and open we are in our sadnesses, the more deeply and serenely the new presence can enter us, and the more we can make it our own, the more it becomes our fate."  Rilke

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January 19, 2010
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Today is a day where I seem to have tripped on the toys I forgot to pick up last night before going to bed.  The trays and platters of good things teeter in the air (all that I am holding and hoping to hold) unsupported as I realize that I need to drop them, use the tripping as an excuse to take a friggen nap.  Though I am a capable and confident woman, I cannot be always and only this.

I keep catching myself staring at the coffee maker, stuck in blank thought pattern.  I have lost my energy and efficiency.  I am on the brink of creative malnutrition.  my worker has taken a day off and in its stead, put on a sleeping bonnet.  What else can a soul do when it simply does not have enough limbs to keep everything afloat?  Yesterday I skillfully juggled them; tomorrow I will hand them off, be good once more at delegating. Alas, today, all that works is dropping them.

as we both drop that which we cannot manage,
we turn to each other and find that only with empty arms
can we fully embrace the other.

and tomorrow,
all those things we put down
will indeed be there to pick up again
when we have again regained our strength.

nothing is broken.
our future remains.




(photo credit)

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