Dark Night Of The Soul...

 

 

Nicole Haimar

“Dark Night of the Soul

On a dark night,

Kindled in love with yearnings

—oh, happy chance!—

I went forth without being observed,

My house being now at rest.

In darkness and secure,

By the secret ladder, disguised

—oh, happy chance!—

In darkness and in concealment,

My house being now at rest.

In the happy night,

In secret, when none saw me,

Nor I beheld aught,

Without light or guide,

save that which burned in my heart.

This light guided me

More surely than the light of noonday

To the place where he (well I knew who!)

was awaiting me—

A place where none appeared.

Oh, night that guided me,

Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,

Oh, night that joined

Beloved with lover,

Lover transformed in the Beloved!

Upon my flowery breast,

Kept wholly for himself alone,

There he stayed sleeping,

and I caressed him,

And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.

The breeze blew from the turret

As I parted his locks;

With his gentle hand

he wounded my neck

And caused all my senses to be suspended.

I remained, lost in oblivion;

My face I reclined on the Beloved.

All ceased and I abandoned myself,

Leaving my cares

forgotten among the lilies.”

― St. John of the Cross

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On The Detour...

 

On the detour of seeking "perfection," 

there was a time in my life 

when I carried around inside myself 

a sense of shame that I was imperfect, 

that I made mistakes, 

that I couldn't get everything "just right." 

A very wise woman one day said to me 

"What right have YOU to be perfect?" 

And I thought about that deeply 

and how even my highest heroes had imperfections, 

and YES, those very flaws 

were what made them unique, human, personal. 

It was a Kairos moment for me. 

Giving up the HUBRIS 

of thinking I could be perfect. 

And yet there is something "perfect" 

which is willing to make its home in us, 

to grace us with miraculous happenings, 

if we can simply get these silly notions of "perfection" 

out of the way, 

that illusion that we can control everything (or ANYTHING!).

~J

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I Often Think...

 

Vincent Van Gogh

I often think of a 'perfect day'. 

A day where I am present. 

A day where I accomplish tasks. 

A day where all is well and good. 

Funny, right? 

While that thought of a ‘perfect day’ 

still ruminates inside of me, 

I'm seeing more, 

and allowing for room for the unknown. 

For what is perfect? 

Is it even possible?

I think of Van Gogh 

and his paintings are NOT perfect. 

In fact, they are beautifully imperfect. 

And perhaps that is what makes them so powerful. 

I can see and feel him working out, 

working through some struggle in his painting. 

He's in the moment 

and grappling with all the imperfections.

~M

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