It is possible that things will not get better
than they are now, or have been known to be.
It is possible that we are past the middle now.
It is possible that we have crossed the great water
without knowing it, and stand now on the other side.
Yes: I think that we have crossed it. Now
we are being given tickets, and they are not
tickets to the show we had been thinking of,
but to a different show, clearly inferior.
Check again: it is our own name on the envelope.
The tickets are to that other show.
It is possible that we will walk out of the darkened hall
without waiting for the last act: people do.
Some people do. But it is probable
that we will stay seated in our narrow seats
all through the tedious denouement
to the unsurprising end- riveted, as it were;
spellbound by our own imperfect lives
because they are lives,
and because they are ours.
~~ Robyn Sarah ~~
“Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destiny of others. You must learn to either carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.” ~ Andrew Boyd
“I am only a ferryman and it is my task to take people across this river. I
have taken thousands of people across and to all of them my river has
been nothing but a hindrance on their journey. They have travelled for
money and business, to weddings and on pilgrimages; the river has
been in their way and the ferryman was there to take them quickly
across the obstacle. However, amongst the thousands there have been
a few, four or five, to whom the river was not an obstacle. They have
heard its voice and listened to it, and the river has become holy to them,
as it has to me. “Have you also learned that secret from the river; that
there is no such thing as time?” That the river is everywhere at the same
time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the
current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the
present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of
~ From ‘Siddhartha’ by Herman Hesse