Wednesday, 9 April 2014

#Sorrow - #17


{Sorrow} has been a companion of mine, through my life.  Just a deep silent companion.  At times, draped across my shoulders like a heavy cape and others like a light silk shawl.  We have at times shared long slow, silent walks together, maybe always, maybe forever!  If I look over my life, it's just always been there.  Not depressed.  Not downhearted.  Never negative. Just a lingering "something" there with me. I can't pinpoint why... maybe it's just my personality.  Maybe it's because I was born on Wednesday.

Maybe... it just makes me who I am.

We aren't enemies!  We aren't friends!  But we are companions!
[Companions - a person with whom one travels;
a pairing of things, intended to complement each other]

I know when I paint - it allows me to access it and touch it a little.  For a long time, it was sad but then it was joy and now... it's whatever it's meant to be!

After I wrote this, I found this poem about {sorrow} by Mary Oliver.
I guess she sums it up perfectly for me. I love how she personifies {sorrow} as a small girl!  Maybe it's my inner artist-child!  I kind of love that!

“Love sorrow.
She is yours now, and you must take care of what has been given.
Brush her hair, help her into her little coat, hold her hand,
especially when crossing a street.
For, think, what if you should lose her?
Then you would be sorrow yourself; her drawn face,
her sleeplessness would be yours. 
Take care, touch her forehead that she feel herself not so utterly alone.
And smile, that she does not altogether forget the world before the lesson.
Have patience in abundance.
And do not ever lie or ever leave her even for a moment by herself,
which is to say, possibly, again, abandoned.
She is strange, mute, difficult, sometimes unmanageable but,
remember, she is a child.
And amazing things can happen.
And you may see, as the two of you go walking together in the morning light,

how little by little she relaxes; she looks about her; she begins to grow.”