John O'Donohue - And Quiet

I like poetry (not love, not adore), and there are a few poets who touch my soul. John O'Donohue is one such poet. 

Irish, often thought of as a poet, priest, philosopher, even a mystic, O'Donohue is just a few years older than me, yet died, mysteriously, in 2008. 

I think of O'Donohue as a quiet man, one who perhaps spent more time in his head - solitude and silence, nature, as his balm, rather than crowds, and it seems that his writings have attracted similarly. 

This past week I was to attend a conference for my endorsement from my faith group (something all chaplains must have), and rather than attend in person (body and soul aches) I chose to watch it on my phone, and spend that time in solitude; I just needed that "no people" time. As well, October brings me to my knees, automatically causing me to reflect on where I am, where I was, where I want to be. And this is best done in silence, when I'm working on a project, and can be peacefully in my head rather than noisily in my head. 

O'Donohue wrote: 

"When you cease to fear your solitude, a new creativity awakens in you. Your forgotten or neglected wealth begins to reveal itself. You come home to yourself and learn to rest within. Thoughts are our inner senses. Infused with silence and solitude, they bring out the mystery of inner landscape."

And so, I pulled out my sewing machine, some fabric, and created, while listening to the conference, while being at home with myself, resting. Recharged. 

Today, I called a client, she was having a tough morning, and said I was an answer to her prayers. She spoke of the disappointment she tries to skirt around, disappointment at not being able to accomplish all she wanted to before cancer hit her, not being able to do what she loves, because of neuropathy, and struggling to "be," after spending so much of her life "doing." And I commiserated with her; life definitely changes for anyone who is diagnosed with a life-threatening disease, and for their loved ones as well. 

As we finished our call, I opened a blog I read, cupofjo.com, and in a recent post, read this piece by O'Donohue, and was reminded, again, just how his words are affirming and consoling. I sent this to her; it spoke to me, I hope it reaches her. 

This is the Time to Be Slow

This is the time to be slow,
Lie low to the wall
Until the bitter weather passes.

Try, as best you can, not to let
The wire brush of doubt
Scrape from your heart
All sense of yourself
And your hesitant light.

If you remain generous,
Time will come good;
And you will find your feet
Again on fresh pastures of promise,
Where the air will be kind
And blushed with beginning.

Pause, be still, listen, heal, slow down.