WALKING DEAD

“He who is not busy living is busy dying” Bob Dylan

lucy complains

Sometimes it helps to look back to where it all started. We humans do something that no other living thing has the the ability to – complain and despair. Eventually it dawns on us that nothing changes as a result. You have probably heard of the idea of keeping a gratitude journal, an effective way to break this bad habit. A journal implies consistency, which produces habit.

For me, remembering that time when I awoke to the truth that I do a miserable job of running my own life. That realization required me to admit what none of us wants to – that however hard I may work at being a good person, I will always fail. No one has ever lived life without failure. Why? Because we are not wired for perfection, just for the longing for it. Is that a cruel joke of some kind? Not at all! It is the very element that causes humans to look Godward.

wrong way sign

We are all just living dead before that moment when we decide to let the Divine live in us. Here is a poem I wrote about my awakening.

COME FORTH!

Head to toe bruised,

bones broken

yet walking!

Hidden sores

not yet healed.

Suddenly under the soaring

white of the

Spirit’s light

I am revealed

And am amazed.

So I really wasn’t

doing so well, I really

didn’t come through

strong and whole!

I really don’t know how

to entrust, to the

tender care of another,

my soul.

Why, and how,

have I

been walking around

like I’m all okay?

It’s time to set the clock back,

leap in the river,

fall upon the hem,

go the other way

And tear these

grave clothes off!

                                                                                      © Janet McDonald

Grave clothes

WATER TO SHARE

WATER TO SHARE

Waterfall

Let my every day be a dawn

graciously sweeping down

The hillside in the still;

sweet not just to Thee

but to all who fall

upon my path.

Let drink who will  

as my face turned up and

warmed, as cup I lift

to see You fill, and

cool, clear, living water spill

© Janet McDonald                                             waterpouringintogoblet