An Episode of Sparrows

There's a little note next to my bed, underneath a postcard I found in a vintage shop (a lone tree in an empty field) and a beautiful portrait of a Tibetan mother by the incredible Steve McCurry.

It's a poem by John Donoghue that I stumbled across on this blog, in a post about longing.

It's a beautiful poem, filled with the kind of wisdom and truth that kind of resonates in your body (almost like a physical, all-over "yes") each time you read it.

There are a few particular lines that jump out at me each time I look at it when I wake up. They go like this:

Blessed be the longing that brought you here
and quickens your soul with wonder.

May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire
that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.

May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease
to discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.

May your mind inhabit your life with the sureness
with which your body inhabits the world.

May your heart never be haunted by ghost-structures of old damage.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Isn't it both beautiful and forceful? The part that really gets to me, that pops up in my thoughts as I go about the day is "may your mind inhabit your life with the sureness with which your body inhabits the world." Mainly because my mind is almost always trying to do the opposite: run away, distract itself from whatever is happening, judge everything, and completely zone out. It reminds me how important it is to live fully, to inhabit each moment totally- which is something that is so frightening and uncomfortable as often at is it is joyful and wonderful. Hopefully you can take something from it too.