And so it begins… at My Seven Storeys

Please take a trip to MySevenStoreys, a new essay-based blog that offers reflections on one man’s spiritual journey home. This week, I reflect on why I am starting a spiritual blog and offer some insights into my definition of the divine.

mysevensstoreys

Why begin a spiritual blog? The last year has been a reckoning for me as I have come to terms with decisions and their consequences. My best friend’s mom called this my period of bardo. Per Wikipedia: “bardo is a Tibetan Buddhist term describing a state of existence between death and rebirth, varying in length according to a person’s conduct in life and manner of, or age at, death.” Clearly meant as a metaphor for the death of one “life” and the transition to another, her wisdom bore itself out over the last year and so continues. When life turned on its head, what some perceived it as self-destruction, I felt a spiritual rebirth.

I should say that I feel a spiritual rebirth.

When I began this blog a few months back, I had intentions of being inspired by Thomas Merton’s autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain. Life happened and…

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Teak Arms

Come and nestle into the nook you chose
Along my gunwale. Rest. I wrap my teak
Arms around you to fend off night. Trace your
Legend between stars, twinkling as they do.

Today, you sacrificed ashes of life
To the Father tormenting your journey
Home. The dust will not heal your wounds or His,
But appeasement will blind him long enough –

His people invite you to the Phaeacian
Feast to hear the substance of your toils.
They lift you up on deck of their swift ship
Sail you home to the Faithful and Longing.

The planks of my own arms, softened by tears:
A bee sting, a disturbed nest on the path
Where you, child, excavated tiny stones
The earliest memory of journey

Are strong tonight – we have no place to be.
Our journey awaits the rose-red fingers
Of Dawn to wrap around your heart again
Teasing tiny sparks from dark, inspiring

Another stop, another mile of miles
To go before you sleep again in this
Nook of my gunwale where I will wrap
You, once again, safe in my soft teak arms.