The ancient intuition, corroborated only in our more profound states of attention and intentionality, of identity — not as a fixed or nameable commodity but more like a meeting, a call-and-answer song, a continual surprise. This surprise identity is one with equally surprising allies in the world, like the colour blue or a sudden doorway, or even a soap dish or a window latch — an identity that is enriched and deepened the more we pay attention to what is other than ourselves.
“Everything is Waiting for You” Your great mistake is to act the drama as if you were alone. As if life were a progressive and cunning crime with no witness to the tiny hidden transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely, even you, at times, have felt the grand array; the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding out your solo voice. You must note the way the soap dish enables you, or the window latch grants you freedom. Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity. The stairs are your mentor of things to come, the doors have always been there to frighten you and invite you, and the tiny speaker in the phone is your dream-ladder to divinity. Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and seen the good in you at last. All the birds and creatures of the world are unutterably themselves. Everything is waiting for you. from David Whyte: Essentials
My favorites of your poems always have me gasping with the horror of being utterly exposed in one line and then laughing at the surprise of grace in the next. (Oh, the generosity of those pots and pans!) Thank you for your insight and your compassion.
Whenever I read this poem aloud I find a moistness comes to my eyes, a catch in my throat. This piece calls me forth.