Spiritual Things Matter

I am a great admirer of Kahlil Gibran’s work. The wisdom and the depth in his writing is profound, beautiful, and moving. One of my all time favorite is out of his book, “The Prophet.” Today, I would like to share it with my dear readers. May it speak to you as tenderly as it always speaks to me. May love awaken us and teach us life’s most valuable secrets.

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
“God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it find you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

~Kahlil Gibran

While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil. ~ John Taylor

Yesterday, we had a death in our family. It was something that happened so fast that everyone is still in a state of shock and bewilderment. It is one of those events where people are wondering about the fairness of life. The sorrow and pain is felt deeply.

My husband’s aunt, a lovely lady, re-married a year ago to a man she had attended high school with, but didn’t know him well until she attended a more recent high school reunion. She was previously married and had two children in this marriage who adore her, but had been divorced for a long time. She worked herself through college and had become a teacher of Texas History and Special Education over the years in a local public school. She is wonderful with young people and has loved her job. At the end of this school year, she was looking forward to retirement with her new bridegroom having planned and dreamed to spend their remaining wonderful years together.

Her new husband had lost his wife about four years ago to cancer. They had three daughters together between 18 - 24 years of age. The family was very close, their marriage was strong, and the children flourished. The loss of their mother was very hard on them. Other family members, friends, and neighbors stepped in to help. They had also lost their grandmother last year, with whom they were all very close.

I remember the first time my husband’s aunt called me and told me that she had found this wonderful man. I could tell in her voice how happy she was, and I was so thrilled for her because I knew that she had not had an easy life. There is something so profoundly comforting when you meet someone that loves you and understands you for who and what you are. A man with whom you can share your life with.

Last month in April, the health problems began. Evidently, he had an abnormal heart beat for a long time, but it had never caused serious problems. Over the last Christmas vacation, the entire family went skiing, and I was told he had some problems getting his breath. Beginning in April, he was in an out of the hospital for testing. It began to look more serious than what anyone had expected. This past week, he had a “code blue” four times. Finally, the doctor and nurse began to cry as they could not bring him back during the last code blue. They felt so helpless because his heart simply wanted to stop.

Entering into the ICU unit, I found family and friends holding each other and crying. His three daughters were in a state of shock, and my husband’s aunt and children were wounded and broken by the death of her new husband. What I heard the loudest was how wonderful it was that those two had found each other, and “how was it possible that life could bring such a sudden death.” They were in the process of building a new home together and making plans for a wonderful retirement. It did not seem fair.

The other thing that was in the forefront of everyone’s mind was the three girls that were now left without their mother, father, and grandmother. How was it possible that these young girls would lose both their parents in a matter of four years? This also seemed so incredibly unbelievable and unfair.

As I looked at this man lying lifeless in that hospital bed, I realized just how large the spirit infills a human vessel. He seemed so frail and small without the spirit of life in him. I realized that the energy and life that makes us who we are on this earth is simply too great to be housed in a small body for too long. Our body is given as a gift to us to learn lessons in this lifetime, after which it is shed to once again return from where it came.

Embracing Death

Oh death, suddenly you come - but we fear you not.
You teach us awareness, each and every time.
You teach us humility and gratefulness.
Your presence brings new resolve into our lives -
to be kinder to all who have been entrusted to us.
To love even more deeply those who need us -
as well as those who want from us.

Oh death, you embrace us with a very cold chill -
leaving us to find warmth and comfort again.
You whisper realities into our ears that are not of this world -
that we might seek and seek,
and then finally find a deeper
and more secure place within ourselves.
Indeed, you are a part of the cycle of birth and dying -
of beginning and ending.
Yet, never the end to Light and Love -
for always it will continue on.

Let comfort come to those who are left behind.
Let light and hope illuminate the heart.
Let time bring its gentle healing kiss -
that tears may transform grief into laughter and joy again.
Let the beauty of life blossom
in each one who has loved him - whom you have taken.
Let them always remember him
and the joy and the love he so generously gave.

. . . Dedicated to the Memory of Barney Bolt . . .

Viola M. Jaynes
May 2008

This Mother’s Day, the one person that comes to mind who has inspired me to become an even better mother is, Elisabeth Fritzl. This courageous Austrian woman has astonished so many of us with her efforts to give her children some sense of normalcy in an incredible abnormal environment. Her mother’s heart gave and kept on giving, although she only received profound sorrow and pain which lasted nearly a quarter of a century. The decorations in her tiny cellar moved me to tears as it shows so clearly that she remembered the stars and the moon which once represented her freedom. She shared that with her children, as was obvious, when her youngest child pointed to the moon and asked if God lived there. Her brokenness is severe and deep. May we wrap her and her children into our hearts and remember them in our prayers…even long after this story is no longer in the forefront.

Dear Brave Soul, Happy Mother’s Day!

Slowly emerging from all that was dark
into the light - which seems so painfully bright.
Slowly, very slowly, each step must be taken -
into freedom…..as senses are overwhelmed
by the generosity of life.

Love and life will embrace you soundly
Goodness and kindness are there to lift you up.
You are a part of our life!
You are a part of our world!
Welcoming you openly -
for love will embrace you all around.

Life with all its complexities
with all its painful sorrows and tears,
cannot be explained with our,
so very limited eyes of understanding -
for only one piece of the puzzle we see.

Yet, life remains a wondrous gift to be lived
with so much love and mysteries yet to be had.
We welcome you with all our hearts!
Embracing you with so much love!
And, with many, many tender thoughts that, now at last,
peace for you and your children will flourish -
forever…holding you securely - far above.

Thank you, oh, brave and fragile soul,
for loving your children - despite it all.
Thank you for teaching them with the little that you had.
Thank you for your astounding bravery and courage.
And thank you, oh, dear tender soul,
for having truly done your very, very best!

May the sun shine tenderly on you -
May her warmth bring healing comfort to your broken heart.
May the wind whisper his eternal truths into your ears
And may you sense his abiding strength as well as his tender mercies.
May the rain fall extra gently upon your brow.
And may each tender droplet bring new rhythm to your thoughts.
May your tears flow freely that you might feel again and begin to heal.
May life bring its beauty to you -
With generosity and with grace.
May it envelope you with new truth and new hope -
That you may find your own beauty which abides richly in you.
And, may Love embrace you and your children -
As our world cradles you firmly and tenderly in her prayers.

Happy Mother’s Day, our very dear Elisabeth!

Viola M. Jaynes
Mother’s Day 2008

Sandy Carlson is a blogger friend that often visits my site. I have admired her work as well as her artistic abilities in writing, poetry, graffiti, photography, and making slides. You may visit her site here. She is not only a gifted individual but she also has a very gentle and kind spirit. I appreciate her very much and I wanted to post this essay she wrote. Well done, Sandy!

If you hear a voice within you say ‘you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced. (Vincent Van Gogh)

Acceptance and rejection are two sides of a coin that must be invested and reinvested in the creative process. They are insights, holes in the walls that isolate us from the world around us and let in the light of understanding.

It can take time to assimilate both acceptance and rejection and avoid the pitfall of becoming complacent in response to the former and inactive in response to the latter. This can be difficult because artists are vulnerable at every turn in the creative process. They have expressed whatever is true and real in themselves in the truest, most real way possible, and they await a response. Will you stop and look? Give it a thought? Do you get it? Do you care?

On Sunday, I attended a forum on acceptance and rejection at Wisdom House. There, a panel of five artists–sculptor Joy Brown, poet Davyne Verstandig, visual artist and writer Florin Firimita, actress Cady McClain, and music director Tim Stella discussed the place of acceptance and rejection in their lives. Two reflections struck a chord with me.

One came from Florin Firimita. He talked about an experience about 18 years ago, shortly after he had emigrated from Romania to the US via Italy. He had been sitting for five hours with a gallery owner who had seen his work. At the end of the conversation, the gallery owner told him he wouldn’t show Firimita’s work–flowers and landscapes–because it was, he said, wall paper. He told the young artist he didn’t believe his body of work reflected who he was. Firimita spent a year thinking about what this provocative statement could mean. Ultimately, he discovered the gallery owner was right, and he changed his direction as an artist. His florals and landscapes gave way to psychological landscapes that explore the universal themes of identity, love, death, loss, reality, dreams and memories.

The other came from sculptor Joy Brown. She talked about her time in Japan as an apprentice sculptor. She had thrown countless sake cups, but not a one pleased her teacher. So off they went to the dump. The student had more to offer, and the teacher was not willing to settle before she realized it for herself. Accepting that meant accepting a broader horizon full of possibilities. She discovered later, though, that the man who had managed the dump had rescued her little cups from the rubbish and displayed them around his hut. They pleased him; he found them beautiful. These cups were works of art for him though they were merely a step in a broader creative process for Brown.

I’ve known acceptance and rejection. They feel the same to me. I prefer that moment when I am creating and nobody is around and the voice inside says “yes.” I don’t always here it, and it doesn’t last long; it doesn’t have to. The “yes” is the air in the cushion that protects me from the pain of rejection and even the painful challenge of acceptance. The “yes” tells me what I have done is true and good right now. And it asks, “Will you come with me, please?”