Fog to Fire

One of my big shadows knocked on my door tonight.

“Hey there,” he said, “I wanted to let you know that it doesn’t seem like you’re very useful lately.” Then he just hung around in the doorway like a bad smell.

Thank goodness that other teachers and healers are out there—this is the balm one of them brought me. I trust that these words will find you exactly when you need them.

Despite the dullness and barrenness of the days that pass, if I search with due diligence, I can always find a deposit left by some former radiance. But I had forgotten. At the time it was full-orbed, glorious and resplendent. I was sure that I would never forget. In the moment of fullness, I was sure that it would illumine my path for all the rest of my journey. I had forgotten how easy it is to forget.

There was no intent to betray what seemed so sure at the time. My response was whole, clean, authentic. But little by little, there crept into my life the dust and grit of the journey. Details, lower-level demands, all kinds of crosscurrents–nothing momentous, nothing overwhelming, nothing flagrant–just wear and tear. If there had been some direct challenge–a clear-cut issue–I would have fought it to the end, and beyond.

In the quietness of this place, surrounded by the all-pervading Presence of God, my heart whispers: Keep fresh before me the moments of my High Resolve, that in fair weather or in foul, in good times or in tempests, in the days when the darkness and the foe are nameless or familiar, I may not forget that to which my life is committed.

Keep fresh before me
The moments of my high resolve.

- Howard Thurman, excerpted from For the Inward Journey