gratitude, on the right day. from the wrong thing.

A just-finishing candle

A candle is made to become entirely flame.
In that annihilating moment
it has no shadow.

It is nothing but a tongue of light
describing a refuge.

Look at this
just-finishing candle stub
as someone who is finally safe
from virtue and vice,

the pride and the shame
we claim from those.
                                                -rumi (as translated by coleman barks) 

on thursday night, i sat with a belly full of sadness and lit a candle for a dear, sweet-souled friend who died the day before. i thought about memories and closeness and distance and time and missing people. i let my heart weigh heavy there awhile, sitting at the table, staring at a candle, by myself. i thought about a big, big lesson in freedom my old friend taught me on a snowy mountainside in vermont. the lesson was about trust and letting go. and then i felt it, stronger than i have in quite awhile: grateful. i wasn’t expecting that, but there it was, in the strangest spot, at my kitchen table, on thanksgiving. and then i told someone i loved them, and i meant it.

this week has some good things in store for you, friends. i do think so. i know it.



7 thoughts on “gratitude, on the right day. from the wrong thing.

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