When Things Fall Apart

#book

The was just the snake and himself and fear.

Just before dawn the last candle went out, and he began to cry. He cried not in despair but from tenderness. He felt the longing of all the animals and people in the world; he knew their alienation and their struggle. All his meditation has been nothing but further separation and struggle. He accepted―really accepted wholeheartedly―that he was angry and jealous, that he resisted and struggled, and that he was afraid. He accepted that he was precious beyond measure―wise and foolish, rich and poor, and totally unfathomable. He felt so much gratitude that in the total darkness he stood up, walked toward the snake, and bowed.

This is where tenderness comes in. When things are shaky and nothing is working, we might realize that we are on the verge of something. We might realize that this is a very vulnerable and tender place, and that tenderness can go either way. We can shut down and feel resentful or we can touch in on that throbbing quality.

We catch ourselves one zillion times as once again, whether we like it or not, we harden into resentment, bitterness, righteous indignation―harden in any way, even into a sense of relief, a sense of inspiration.

Referenced By