Solstice: Light in Darkness

I didn't see this blog until today but just wanted to write and say "thank you," as it's a beautiful piece to share and treasure.
I imagine it's a solstice meditation as well, or have you written one especially for this deeply renewing event?

Confession: I've never blogged before. To paraphrase Walt Whitman, great bloggers need great readers. So thank you for your (encouraging) words, Carole. Yes it was written for this winter solstice (a fifth season, unto itself, in some Japanese almanacs) and am so glad you see it as more than being about meditation but a meditation in itself.

It has an extra layer of meaning for me, which I'll share. You are the first person to comment on it but my father personally told me it also meant a great deal to himself as well, and read it several times. He passed out of life yesterday, at 95, peacefully, in his home, as he wished.

May all beings be safe.
May all beings be well.
May all beings thrive.

Amen.

As a poet, Gary, I'm sure you'll appreciate the unusual experience I had with the photo of the oldest monk at the oldest monastery in China - one that appeared in a Los Angeles Times story by Michael Pzark, who was later to become editor of the Times. One night after chanting for a while my eyes fell on the photo, which was on my altar, and I lifted it up and held it so the portrait was just a few inches from my face and I could look into his eyes. I felt them become alive. Magically, as I looked into those eyes, words began to form spiontaneously from the region of my heart - never passing through my mind, never getting edited. Two things arose, each still preciouis to me. One appeared to be an adage, and the other a short poem. It's the adage I'd like to ask your thoughts about. You mentioned "clarity," and so did these words from my heart" "Foremost, seek clarity; first, search for the truth." I have iften pondered the order of these things, and while at first the order lends itself to the obvious thought, that we must have a clear mind with which to search for the truth, I am sometrimes baffled by the idea of "seekinfg" clarity, as though it were a spiritual value of the highest order, and with it then searching for truth. Perhaps it's like needing a fork to eat a steak, but I think there's something vital there.

I hope you'll enjoy the poem as much as I have over the years:

All desires rise and fall;
at the low ebb of desire,
the ocean waits:
the current pushes outward,
attachments fall.

All my best,

Joe Shea