Everything is Waiting for You ...

The Path to Infinity, a photo by Ben Heine on Flickr.

A dear friend and healer gave me a set of David Whyte conversations on CD for a birthday present. I listen intently to one at a time, needing to have a week's space or more in between, so that I can properly digest his offerings and let his words work me.

In the most recent one I listened to, he reads one of his poems, "Everything is Waiting for You" and it halted me, my breath being sucked out of my body. I felt like he was writing about the smallest, most fearful place in me and that there was now a small spotlight on the blemishes of my core wounding to be seen in all its puss and oozing. The poem is equally healing in its gentle reminder to me that the contracted place where the story and belief of abandonment has been created is just a construct and not a Truth. He is writing, in my opinion, about how when we feel and know the presence of a Power greater than ourselves - our ONENESS with all -- there is no solitary me struggling in the world to survive but instead, as the title says,  everything is waiting for me.

The compelling words of David Whyte:

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation. The kettle is singing even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots have left their arrogant aloofness and seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.