Oh the story I have become - with a storyline I'm writing as I go, with no end in sight, neither a happily ever after, nor a dead heroine - I'd be happy with either. Instead, this story of mine is a plodding one, one heavy step after another, forcing myself to trudge my dragging feet along - the same steps over and over again, not learning anything, not gaining anything; losing hope, losing zeal, losing self respect, losing character; finding the pathetic soul that lives in this body - wanting to do right, but only missing it in every step - for lack of courage, lack of integrity, lack of strength. It's like the Ash Wednesday poem that T.S. Eliot wrote -
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
When have I lost hope? When did I lose my youth and become old? Why? Is there nothing I can do right? When did I become a failure? Were my hopes too high? too silly? the hopes of a wretch?
Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow,
For there is nothing again
Was my positive hour a one time thing? A transitory power? The glory of a winged butterfly? Has my spring come and gone? Can I not stay it? Keep it? Am I nothing now? Nothing again?
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
How I wish I could rejoice that things are as they are, how I wish I could accept that time is always time, how I wish I could keep my faith in that blessed face, the blessed voice... and turn again... and turn to hope again
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And I pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
I wish I could forget, I wish I could repent - these regrets that eat at me, these matters that gnaw at me, so that I can't even pray - I'm consumed by my story instead - did I learn anything? Or am I repeating the same mistakes over and over again? Ever and forever again?
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
And this life of mine, and its plodding steps - if only I could stop and sit still, if only my will was small, if only my wings could stop flapping, if only... if only...
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
Sigh... who do I even ask to pray for me?
If I may offer 2 sources of thought that have helped me in this universal affliction:
ReplyDelete1) "There is nothing that is absolutely evil. The devil has a place here as well as God, else he would not be here. Just as I told you, it is through Hell that we pass to Heaven. Our mistakes have places here. Go on! Do not look back if you think you have done something that is not right. Now, do you believe you could be what you are today, had you not made those mistakes before? Bless your mistakes, then. They have been angels unawares. Blessed be torture! Blessed be happiness. Do not care what be your lot. Hold on to the ideal. March on! Do not look back upon little mistakes and things. In this battlefield of ours, the dust of mistakes must be raised. Those who are so thin-skinned that they cannot bear the dust, let them get out of the ranks.
So, then, this tremendous determination to struggle a hundredfold more determination than that which you put forth to gain anything which belongs to this life, is the first great preparation." - excerpt from Swami Vivekananda's talk "Sadhanas or Preparations for Higher Life" (http://www.vivekananda.net/ByTopic/Sadhana.html)
2) This brilliant chapter by Eknath Easwaran where he talks of the show regret, fear, anger, etc. put on across the screen of our minds and how we can be free when we practice being able to direct our attention...we simply don't feed it with our attention and poof! they cease to exist, or at least cease to be compulsive: http://books.google.co.in/books?id=dxcNUISHyXEC&lpg=PT94&ots=L_fDgNfVe1&dq=eknath%20easwaran%20anger%20fangs&pg=PT83#v=onepage&q&f=false