From Ann Glover O’Dell’s Midwifing the Soul:
Buried Treasure
The God of terror and of joy
has buried deep within
the unimaginable
to frighten and release
in its own time.
Perhaps we once knew what it was–
knew and were not strong enough
to deal with that reality
so like the single talent one
entombed it well.
And through the years
we grew and changed
and as time passed
forgot the nature
of our buried prize.
We came to distrust
hidden substances
in their un-knowing
and then to fear
and then to hate.
We bought large locks
for dungeon doors
determined now
to keep enchained
the secret there.
But it too grew
and finally outgrew
the closet chamber deeps.
The concentration pressed against
the world of consciousness
and would not be contained.
I press with all my might
but cannot keep
the stone from bursting forth
revealing the white raiment
of my twice-born soul.
From Celia’s Images in a Reflecting Pool: a Journal:
I remember in college hearing a professor mention that some character in literature “derived his meaning in life from work.”
I immediately saw myself in those words. But in recent years my journal has been filled with variations on the theme, “I have to get over feeling that I want to push-push-push at work.” The problem is that I become obsessive about work when I am truly “into” it, but my emotional make-up screams at me that I need to lighten up.
So I do—and the oscillations of greater and lesser work play themselves out over and over. I would be better to seek a steady pace, not making the same mistake of work overload on a recurring basis.
–
It is hard for me to go easy when I see deadlines staring me in the face. Yet this is just what I must learn to do. The fact that the problem recurs proves that there is a better way for me to freely choose—and choose it I must.