Wednesday, 14 August 2013


A crisis of confidence in the last few days, brought on by insufficient sleep and overactivity chemicals in my blood.

In the midst of it, some wise, unflappable part of me manages to wake up and remind me that this is one situation where the notion of 'faith' actually has some meaning for me...

I want to write about faith,
about the way the moon rises
over cold snow, night after night

faithful even in its fading from fullness,
slowly becoming that last curving and impossible
sliver of light before the final darkness.

But I have no faith myself
I refuse it even the smallest entry.

Let this then, my small poem,
like a new moon, slender and barely open,
be the first prayer that opens me to faith.

David Whyte

I feel so grateful that the extremes of my life have allowed me to learn something about the nature of the psychophysical interactions (behavioural, chemical, internally conversational) which lead to instability and doubt... and so grateful to the hidden parts of my being which come up with their antidotes....


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