THE WINTER OF LISTENING No one but me by the fire, my hands burning red in the palms while the night wind carries everything away outside. All this petty worry while the great cloak of the sky grows dark and intense round every living thing. All this trying to know who we are and all this wanting to know exactly what we must do. What is precious inside us does not care to be known by the mind in ways that diminish its presence. What we strive for in perfection is not what turns us to the lit angel we desire. What disturbs and then nourishes has everything we need. What we hate in ourselves is what we cannot know in ourselves but what is true to the pattern does not need to be explained. Inside everyone is a great shout of joy waiting to be born… … From ‘The Winter of Listening’ David Whyte : Essentials Many Rivers Press 2019 Published here with kind permission. … Winter Walk Photo © David Whyte Cassey Compton, Cotswolds. February 3rd 2019
Header Photo by Michael Niessl on Unsplash