The Sun over my Shoulders

In the middle of the journey of my life, I came to find myself, in a dark wood, where the direct way was lost. It is a hard thing to speak of, how wild, harsh and impenetrable that wood was, so that thinking of it recreates the fear. It is scarcely less bitter than death: but, in order to tell of the good that I found there, I must tell of the other things I saw there.

Dark Woods and fear

I cannot rightly say how I entered it. I was so full of sleep, at that point where I abandoned the true way. But when I reached the foot of a hill, where the valley, that had pierced my heart with fear, came to an end, I looked up and saw its shoulders brightened  with the rays of that sun that leads us rightly on every road. Then the fear, that had settled in the lake of my heart, through the night that I had spent so miserably, became a little calmer…. (Dante, Canto 1, A.S. Kline, translator)

The purpose of suffering

I have yearned for a way out of the dark and harsh woods. I must look hard to see the good that I found. It will not give the suffering purpose, but it is part of the whole story. Look deeply to see the natural world crying and all of humanity crying out for something to heal the earth and people there.

There is much that we have lost — lost friends, lost relationships, lost parents, lost animals and most especially lost love. Losing love is more painful now because this time my faith and my singing are silenced.

Lost loves beneath our covered masks

We must somehow remember each person as a person and not a number or part of a whole. Listen deeply to their biographies — their lives. All ages and ethnicity must are vital. Remember past loves — the good with the difficult. Beneath our masks we must show each other our love. We must rejoice for whatever smile we can muster and imagine others behind their tears and their anger.

(Photo by Olivia Motch)