You Were Always In Safe Hands, Episode 39
Here's 'In Safe Hands', the 39th episode of Turning Towards Life, a weekly live 30 minute conversation hosted by thirdspace coaching in which Justin Wise and Lizzie Winn dive deep into big questions of human living.
This week we begin with a poem by Jeff Foster which makes the radical suggestion that what we're trying to get to, and what we're trying to run from, obscure a simple and vital truth: that we've misunderstood what we are. And that what we need is right here, just where we are, waiting for us.
Along the way we talk about what it is to find language for that part of human experience that is, essentially, unsayable. And we remind ourselves that while we're often far away from ourselves it's always in returning home that healing happens.You can join our members-only facebook group for live conversation and community here.
In Safe Hands
You get tired of half-truths, don't you? You get tired of pretending You get tired of the world's promises You get tired of... waiting. You even get tired of getting tired.
You get tired of 'you' - The one who 'gets tired of'.
A divine disillusionment And a great paradox - For who gets tired of whom?
In the midst of despair You find yourself staring life in the face Naked and unprotected in front of its sacredness. And for the first time (For whatever reason) You do not turn away.
It breaks you open It shatters your dreams It burns up your certainty. Even your dreams of enlightenment do not stand a chance.
You shit yourself with fear You cry out for help (Why has it forsaken you?)
And then For the the first time You feel deeply alive Undivided from life itself Resting in the arms of the One you always sought Unprotected yet utterly safe Free at last Free at last.
It destroys the one you thought you were But it never touches the One you are.
This is the road less travelled, they say A road leading not to the future Not to the promised land But to the one reading these words now
To the one who knew all along That all along this road's ancient edges lies the shed skin of lost identities and unkept promises.
Clean yourself up, my friend You were always in safe hands.
– Jeff Foster
Photo Credit: Meanest Indian Flickr via Compfightcc