Sunday's Poetry (on Friday)

To Know the Dark
by Wendell Berry

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light.
To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight,
and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings,
and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

I've been listening to this poem speak in my head the last few days. Life feels chaotic to me right now, changes known and unknown looming just ahead of us. (Have I mentioned my aversion to change?) It feels like darkness, the not knowing. But what if there's good to be found in the darkness too?

Parenting Liza is showing me how much I rely on faith when faced with the unknown. She's been asking some hard questions. Questions that I don't always have a concrete answer for. I tell her as much as I know, and then I admit that I don't have it all figured out, but that's alright because deep inside me I trust that it really is all ok, even the mysterious parts. (It's on the list in my purse, remember?)

It's hard to help your child move from a space of carefree joy about everything in the world to the realization that life is bittersweet...both bitter AND sweet. As much as we always say we wish we could keep them sheltered from the yucky parts of life, I have to wonder if that would stunt their capacity for joy.

How much more do you love the sunshine because of the rain?
And even though goodbyes are heart wrenching, how amazing are the reunions?
The cold of winter has to come before we are rewarded with the warmth of spring.
The valleys can be grueling, but we're also gifted with the view from the mountaintops.

I'm working on imagining faith like floating. Lying back and trusting the undulating surface of the water to hold the whole weight of me, instead of fighting the waves that threaten to crush me against the shore.