Showing posts with label Begininng. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Begininng. Show all posts

Tuesday, 25 September 2007

Preparing and Procrastinating

In general I prepare for any journey by procrastinating extensively. I write endless lists about what I should bring and what I should leave behind. Then I have a bout of conscience and think about the weight allowances of British Airways. I cross off half of what was on my list in the first place and begin to pack for the journey. When I get to the end of my list I pack the things I crossed off previously, and a then throw a few more bits in just in case - a posh skirt, a mirror - do I need a travel iron? I curse at check in and moan about the unnnecesarry restrictions. While I am away I use only a quarter of what packed, and in the end unpack at home reflecting about how much I didn't need to bring with me anyway.

For this journey though I have decided to bring with me just one thing. A thought from St John of the Cross. Please excuse me for writing it in Spanish first, it rhymes better.

Noche Obscura

En una noche obscura,
con ansia, en amores inflamada,
¡oh dichosa ventura!,
salí sin ser notada,
estando ya mi casa sosegada.

A oscuras y segura
por la secreta escala, disfrazada,
¡oh dichosa ventura!,
a escuras y en celada,
estando ya mi casa sosegada.

En la noche dichosa,
en secreto, que nadie me veía,
ni yo miraba cosa,
sin otra luz y guía
sino la que en el corazón ardía.

Aquesta me guiaba
más cierto que la luz del mediodía
adonde me esperaba
quien bien yo me sabía
en parte donde nadie parecía.

¡Oh noche que guiaste!
¡Oh noche, amable más que el alborada!
¡Oh noche que juntaste
Amado con amada,
amada en el Amado transformada!

En mi pecho florido,
que entero para él solo se guardaba,
allí quedó dormido,
y yo me regalaba,
y el ventalle de cedros aire daba.

El aire del almena,
cuando ya sus cabellos esparcía,
con su mano serena
en mi cabello hería,
y todos mis sentidos suspendía.

Quedéme y olvidéme,
el rostro recliné sobre el Amado;
cesó todo, y dexéme,
dexando mi cuidado
entre las azucenas olvidado.

On a Dark Night

On a dark night
When love burned bright
Consuming all my care,
While my house slept,
Unseen, I crept
Along the secret stair.


O blessed chance!
No human glance
My secret steps detected.
While my house slept,
I silent crept
In shadow well protected.

That blessed night
Concealed from sight,
Unseeing did I go,
No light to guide
But that inside
My eager heart aglow

A guide as bright
As noonday light,
Which brought me where he dwelt,
Where none but he
Could wait for me
And make his presence felt

Sweeter that night
Than morning light,
For Love did loving meet,
I knew him well,
And we could dwell
In ecstasy complete

I gave him there
My thought, my care,
So did my spirit flower.
Love lay at rest
Upon my breast
That cedar scented hour.

When morning air
Ruffled his hair
From off the ramparts blowing,
I felt his hand,
A quiet command
Tranquility bestowing.

Then face to face
With love’s own grace,
My fears no more parading,
I left them there
With all my care
Among the lilies fading.

Monday, 24 September 2007

Prepare

Beginning a journey into the unknown



The Shell of St James - Camino de Santiago

My Lord Jesus Christ, you have made this journey to die for me with love unutterable, and I have so many times unworthily abandoned you; but now I love you with my whole heart, and because I love you, I repent sincerely for ever having offended you. Pardon me, my God, and permit me to accompany you on this journey. You are going to die for love of me; I wish also, my beloved Redeemer, to die for love of you. My Jesus, I will live and die always united to you.
Alphonsus Liguori

Sunday, 23 September 2007

Why would you write this?

Yes, it does seem strange for a young woman to write about such things, I agree. But, you see it is something that I have never really understood. I have read about the stations of the cross. I have even been present as people prayed the stations of the cross. I have heard excellent homilies about the stations of the cross. But, I have never, ever understood the stations of the cross.

Actually, I do not for a moment imagine that writing about the stations will help me to understand them. But I am hoping that it will make me appreciate my lack of understanding, and I am hoping that the more tired my intellect grows of trying to understand, the more I will be able to accept the fact that this particular spiritual practice was meant to be grasped. Practiced. Walked. Done. Felt. Definately not understood.