Monday, June 8, 2009

what remains

May I be I is the only prayer --
not may I be great or good or beautiful or wise or strong.
-e.e. cummings

not strong, not beautiful...hmmm...what's left?

I which is more than I. the unseen I, the I-without-limits, the I that is always there but not seen until beauty descends and muscles grow limp.

not a pretty I.  an angry I, a frustrated I, an I mumbling ohshit ohshit ohshit.

what sort of prayer is this?

the only prayer that remains.

Candace




3 comments:

Unknown said...

Just be. just be. just be.
In the moment.
There is nothing else.
And the next moment will take care of itself, also, when you are in that moment.
If you completely take care of this moment, you will live without regrets.
There is not much time left, I sense it.
Every moment counts.
But that includes every moment of 31+ years already spent, and spent well. You invested wisely. Because it is all there is, it must be enough. Those moments all count too, and all come to bear on these final few moments left. And all the moments that will come after, that will also take care of themselves when you are in them.
Oh, Candace, I wish I were there to share a few moments with you.
Our moments will come. And I will hold you close and just be with you. Beginning of August, I will be there.

Unknown said...

By the way, I am praying that prayer with you.
Pain is pain is pain. A universal human condition that allows its opposite, also, to exist on the planet. Of course when it is present it blocks out the others. But they are there, too.
On the other side of pain is its opposite and it will come too, for you both.
Relief will come. I don't know when, or how, but it will come. It always does.
Embracing you both, Heather

Candace Galik said...

Ah, Heather...all so wise. And nothing is better for becoming "in the moment" than a situation that is fully intense -- as you say, pain and its opposite, and when the two merge it's a wow of a teacher.

And as Leonard Cohen once said about a poem he had written: The poem's most painful line was "not the whole story, but worth a line."

There is much, as I'm sure you realize, that is wonderful, each day, and I even though I don't frequently write about this, I (almost) never forget it.

Looking forward very much to August ~ Candace