I’m coming to realize that this poem below, by the Irish / American David Whyte, shows up to guide me with regularity.
Sometimes it is in the darkened days that lead to Winter Solstice. When my body seems to know to go a bit further inward.
Sometimes the guidance is when I’m tired, and I’m trying to remember what really calls me to life and what I wish to contribute from that.
Sometimes the guidance is to give myself permission to stare out the window at trees blowing, leaves falling, or snow accumulating.
It’s the line about “too small for you” that often catches me. I don’t have much energy these days to follow patterns of inflated aggrandizing nor of perpetuated denials of that which is so beautifully ordinary. I do have energy to remind, and to be reminded, of the sweet imagination that compels life to more life.
When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.
When your vision has gone,
no part of the world can find you.
Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.
There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.
The dark will be your home
The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.
You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.