"Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."
"Having Come This Far" by Leonard Cohen
My daughter who is ten glorious years of light told me yesterday that she read somewhere that by the time a person is 65 years old, they have spent 9 years watching television. I know that there are facts like this all over about all sorts of things, hours spent working, chores, etc. (actually, people who can dance with numbers well just fascinate me. As for me, I dance with them as bad as Elaine from Seinfeld and the numbers have asked me politely to just pour the punch at their dance parties) I am not perfect.
I know this.
Friends, this week, both at home and here in blogland, have rung their bells and they seem to not be full of tinkling light, spinning in the morning breeze to the song of the sunrise. They have a deep woe in their ringing. Sometimes the music is a frustrated cadence. Resonances of unease abound. Because others have done it for me when my bells have toned with a melancholy chant, I will take this moment to tell you,
You are a song, beyond beautiful, I tell you. All you do is worthwhile. All you do is not lost. All you do is essential and full of light.
Your world, my world, will not be without its cracks, stress fractures or chasms. At the end of day, when you let your eyelids gently close, just tell yourself...
"My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, did all within this circle move." ~Edmund Waller
Whether it was sixty diamond minutes or the great cabochon that is each day, your offering is divine. It is worthy of note. It is the part of you that sounds through the morning air and sounds through the sleeping night. You are essential to the choir of souls in this world's composition.
"One sad thing about this world is that the acts that take the most out of you are usually the ones that other people will never know about." ~Anne Tyler
But, know that I hear your bells. Just as others have heard mine and with their hugs the bells became lighter and sweeter and when the heavy, cracked, weight of the Liberty Bell is on my back again, knowing that sometimes that is the cost of independence and responsibility, hugs from friends lighten the song. You are all light and I thank-you friends for your offerings.