“I love the dark hours of my being.
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,
the days of my life, already lived,
and held like a legend, and understood.”
Rainer Maria Rilke
Sunday evenings are complex because we are at an “end” and about to head into a “beginning.” Sundays signal the subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) transition from time based on personal agendas to time structured by others who are depending upon our focused attention and interaction. I think of this as moving from “my time” to “their time.”
Some call it the Sunday Night Blues and many people have felt the sting. I first experienced this when I was in grade school, when I knew that a math test, or even worse, a spelling bee was scheduled for Monday morning. I confess that spelling was never my strong suit.
Over the years, I have created ways in which to embrace a spirit of anticipation for what lay ahead. Sunday evenings have become a time of reflection, a pause, a breathing space. Tomorrow will come, but for tonight, I am here.
Join me on my Sunday Evening Reflection.
Ocean Reflection from Rebecca Budd aka Clanmother on Vimeo.
There is a time when you must let go…when memories will give strength…and tears courage. Friendship endures.
“Your lost friends are not dead, but gone before, advanced a stage or two upon that road which you must travel in the steps they trod.”
Aristophanes (448 – 380 BC) Greece
September is my favourite month. There is energy, freshness in the breeze as I walk on Vancouver’s famous Seawall. On a clear September morning, I can see the water touch the mountains.
“Men go back to the mountains, as they go back to sailing ships at sea, because in the mountains and on the sea they must face up.” Henry David Thoreau
With the sun high in the heavens, and a gently chilled wind at our back, we sailed to Bowen Island, British Columbia. As I looked across the glittering water, I remembered a poem from high school: The Secret of the Sea by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I have included a few lines….
Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me
As I gaze upon the sea!
All the old romantic legends,
All my dreams, come back to me.
In each sail that skims the horizon,
In each landward-blowing breeze,
I behold that stately galley,
Hear those mournful melodies;
Till my soul is full of longing
For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
Sends a thrilling pulse through me.