Finisterre : The Place Where
Your Present Turns Into the Future
“ Think about how many times I have fallin
Spirits
are using me
Larger
Voices are Callin’ ”
- Stephen Stills
"The Logic of worldly success rests on the fallacy: The strange error that our perfection depends on the thoughts and opinions and applause of other men! A weird life it is, indeed, to be living always in somebody else's imagination, as if that were the only place in which one could at least be real"
- Seven Storey Mountain, T. Merton
"This is another great difference between your civilization and ours. You admire the man who pushes his way to the top in any walk of life, while we admire the man who abandons his ego"
- Seven Years in Tibet, H. Harrier
My Camino
There was that time while on his
Self selected Camino
The Pilgrim awakened
To the reality his conversation
To the journey that brought him to this moment
What he had desired had already happened
Each step along the way of his sojourn
Was the result of one invitation leading to another
The great Marathon is both voyage to where he thought
He should be in the end
An the expedition of the Seven Stories of the interior.
At one mystical moment the colors glorify the mountains
In September in the rain just before the leaves come falling down.
Purpose,intention complete the trees as they rest in wait
For the promise of their redemptive rebirth.
Weary Pilgrim on that road less travelled.
Scallop shells indicate
it is how he got to this place that really matters.
The reflections of his journaled confessions repeated
Beginnings and Endings,
Endings and Beginnings,
Interactions and coincidental encounters.
The Obe Wan had once counseled " Courage"
His Jedi companion said "The Frontier
Where reality lives is where the true self, the myths of the world
And the future reside.
Hearts break when we care about that which really matters."
His Santiago another safe harbor
On that perpetual voyage.
Illuminations and transformation arrive
When spirits let go.
Paradise is ...now
A river can't be pushed,
It flows, flows and flows...
This place on the shore of the great sea and this time is
Where the pilgrim stands in revelation reflecting
On that which was, is and receives another invitation.
He walks on.
There was that time while on his
Self selected Camino
The Pilgrim awakened
To the reality his conversation
To the journey that brought him to this moment
What he had desired had already happened
Each step along the way of his sojourn
Was the result of one invitation leading to another
The great Marathon is both voyage to where he thought
He should be in the end
An the expedition of the Seven Stories of the interior.
At one mystical moment the colors glorify the mountains
In September in the rain just before the leaves come falling down.
Purpose,intention complete the trees as they rest in wait
For the promise of their redemptive rebirth.
Weary Pilgrim on that road less travelled.
Scallop shells indicate
it is how he got to this place that really matters.
The reflections of his journaled confessions repeated
Beginnings and Endings,
Endings and Beginnings,
Interactions and coincidental encounters.
The Obe Wan had once counseled " Courage"
His Jedi companion said "The Frontier
Where reality lives is where the true self, the myths of the world
And the future reside.
Hearts break when we care about that which really matters."
His Santiago another safe harbor
On that perpetual voyage.
Illuminations and transformation arrive
When spirits let go.
Paradise is ...now
A river can't be pushed,
It flows, flows and flows...
This place on the shore of the great sea and this time is
Where the pilgrim stands in revelation reflecting
On that which was, is and receives another invitation.
He walks on.
Maybe This is Heaven - Field of Dreams
Finesterre
- David Whyte
- David Whyte
The road in the end taking the path the sun had taken,
into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you
as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way
to your future now but the way your shadow could take,
walking before you across water, going where shadows go,
no way to make sense of a world that wouldn't let you pass
except to call an end to the way you had come,
to take out each frayed letter you brought
and light their illumined corners, and to read
them as they drifted through the western light;
to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that;
to promise what you needed to promise all along,
and to abandon the shoes that had brought you here
right at the water's edge, not because you had given up
but because now, you would find a different way to tread,
and because, through it all, part of you could still walk on,
no matter how, over the waves.”
Camino
- David Whyte
The way forward, the way between things,
the way already walked before you,
the path disappearing and re-appearing even
as the ground gave way beneath you,
the grief apparent only in the moment
of forgetting, then the river, the mountain,
the lifting song of the Sky Lark inviting
you over the rain filled pass when your legs
had given up, and after,
it would be dusk and the half-lit villages
in the evening light; other people's homes
glimpsed through lighted windows
and inside,othe people's lives; your own home
you had left crowing your memory
as you looked up to see a child playing
or a mother moving from one side of
a room to another, your eyes wet
with the keen cold wind of Navarre.
But your loss brought you here to walk
under one name and one name only,
and to find the guise under which all loss can live;
along the wa, remember you were greeted as such,
and you needed no other name, other people
seemed to know you even before you gave up
being a shadow on the road and came into the light,
even before you sat down with them,
broke bread and drank wine,
wiped the wind-tears from your eyes;
pilgrim they called you again. Pilgrim.
into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you
as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way
to your future now but the way your shadow could take,
walking before you across water, going where shadows go,
no way to make sense of a world that wouldn't let you pass
except to call an end to the way you had come,
to take out each frayed letter you brought
and light their illumined corners, and to read
them as they drifted through the western light;
to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that;
to promise what you needed to promise all along,
and to abandon the shoes that had brought you here
right at the water's edge, not because you had given up
but because now, you would find a different way to tread,
and because, through it all, part of you could still walk on,
no matter how, over the waves.”
Camino
- David Whyte
The way forward, the way between things,
the way already walked before you,
the path disappearing and re-appearing even
as the ground gave way beneath you,
the grief apparent only in the moment
of forgetting, then the river, the mountain,
the lifting song of the Sky Lark inviting
you over the rain filled pass when your legs
had given up, and after,
it would be dusk and the half-lit villages
in the evening light; other people's homes
glimpsed through lighted windows
and inside,othe people's lives; your own home
you had left crowing your memory
as you looked up to see a child playing
or a mother moving from one side of
a room to another, your eyes wet
with the keen cold wind of Navarre.
But your loss brought you here to walk
under one name and one name only,
and to find the guise under which all loss can live;
along the wa, remember you were greeted as such,
and you needed no other name, other people
seemed to know you even before you gave up
being a shadow on the road and came into the light,
even before you sat down with them,
broke bread and drank wine,
wiped the wind-tears from your eyes;
pilgrim they called you again. Pilgrim.
Santiago
- David Whyte
The road seen, then not seen, the
hillside
hiding then revealing the way you
should take,
the road dropping away from you as if
leaving you
to walk on thin air, then catching you,
holding you up,
when you thought you would fall,
and the way forward always in the end
the way that you followed, the way that
carried you
into your future, that brought you to
this place,
no matter that it sometimes took your
promise from you,
no matter that it had to break your
heart along the way:
the sense of having walked from far
inside yourself
out into the revelation, to have risked
yourself
for something that seemed to stand both
inside you
and far beyond you, that called you
back
to the only road in the end you could
follow, walking
as you did, in your rags of love and
speaking in the voice
that by night became a prayer for safe
arrival,
so that one day you realized that what
you wanted
had already happened long ago and in
the dwelling place
you had lived in before you began,
and that every step along the way, you
had carried
the heart and the mind and the promise
that first set you off and drew you on
and that you were
more marvelous in your simple wish to
find a way
than the gilded roofs of any
destination you could reach:
as if, all along, you had thought the
end point might be a city
with golden towers, and cheering
crowds,
and turning the corner at what you
thought was the end
of the road, you found just a simple
reflection,
and a clear revelation beneath the face
looking back
and beneath it another invitation, all
in one glimpse:
like a person and a place you had
sought forever,
like a broad field of freedom that
beckoned you beyond;
like another life, and the road still
stretching on.
Transformation
– Van Morrison
When
the Leaves come Fallin Down – Van Morrison
Wasted
Along The Way – Crosby Still and Nash
Southern
Cross – Crosby Stills and Nash
The
Ballad of Easy Rider – R. McGuin
A
Lyrical Bridge between the past, present and future- David Whyte (TEDTalk)
Click on Link
The
Way * (Fictional Movie about The Camino de Santiago and Life Journeys)
amdg
“One
day I will find the right words and they will be simple”
- Jack Kerouac
“The
only truth is music”
- Jack Kerouac
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JF Sobecki LLC 2017 – All Rights Reserved
