what half dark, half light place this?

sitting in a bitterly cold dublin with a wifi link working at crankshaft speed, attempting for the umpteenth time to write something on these pages, or indeed on any page...

is the passing of one year into the next an ending, or a beginning or a going on?

it almost seems cruel to have to pass over from one to the next when the days are at their darkest, only just past solstice and lighter, greener days merely a promise rather than a reality...

so many days in this year have felt like this... and if there is one characteristic of this darkness then it is its power to overwhelm... one has to be mindful that it is not all encompassing. to tell ourselves that there can be a time again, just as there have been days before, not marked by deep sadness or regret... that hope is something constant. even when we can't feel it. some days we are called to hope in hope itself and prayer looks like asking that it will do the seeking and find us...

the path out of this valley is not one that can be faked... you can't dress up depression in new clothes and pretend it's joy...
only kindness to the soul truly heals... this damned frustrating practice of daily resurrection, of feeling gratitude at being alive when in shadow, is a craft that needs constant attentiveness... to see the possibility in each moment... to hold this fragile, broken nest of the heart with tenderness... to believe in light even when light seems far off...

this year began by putting my nest out on a new limb, trusting in sentiment that proved momentary rather than lasting... words that should be meant for promises and longevity but used with feint intention... what should have been life bringing left me feeling as much deceived, confused, fearful... so many moments have been a battle to live with compassion over resentment, especially towards myself... to not let myself harden... to find a truthful voice to express painful feelings... i have failed myself many times... and all too often hollowed myself out with silence rather than living in the wholeness of my truth...

my prayer for this approaching turn of year is that hope will seek me out... make itself known... sing only a tune of truthful intent... and that my heart would learn to listen deeply... to mature into protective discernment so that i might once more regain a belief in trust... and find an inner energy, a persistent will, to keep on keeping on... to be mindful that one does not walk alone... and the creativity to repair my broken nest with all the woven colours that i am... that i would learn have the courage to be warm home to myself...

for this journey cannot go on from anywhere other than where we are in the present moment...

come hope. come and come. and come. and i will watch and listen for another day yet...

LB