Youngest son has been autistically and completely focused on an old song today. "Since I Don't Have You." The lines he repeats via his trustworthy friend, the CD player, over and over are "... I don't have happiness, and I guess; I never will ever again. Since you walked out on me, in walked old misery; and he's been here since then..." He had been showing me pictures and scenes on video of princesses being kissed. I couldn't quite figure out his point. I wasn't thinking or talking about romance. But, I had been thinking about betrayals of trust. So, as we often do with Ben ... I just winged it! [letting other images and events unfold.]And then this silly 'ole rabbit had a rhyme come to mind:
"Georgie Porgie - Puddin' n' pie,
kissed the girls and made them cry;
When the boys came out to play,
Georgie Porgie - ran away."
Ben doesn't like lip kisses at all; but on occasion, will make a very exaggerated and distinct "kiss" motion and noise. Once, a long time ago, he did it to communicate a "Judas" event so I would know who the deceitful one was. Long story. I'll save that for another autism blog post! ;o)
Anyway, on the affection quotient and some autistics: Ben prefers the old "Eskimo Kisses" wherein we nuzzle noses and then he puts a full on nelson around the upper body and hugs/holds on for dear Life! That's his way. And I like it just fine. His efforts to show and ask for affection are atypical and I appreciate him so much.
Now it so happens that this same son has been showing me the words of Gibran Khalil Gibran for two days. Betrayal has been a somewhat recurrent theme in our lives. While thinking about why this is and how those who seem to speak the bravest act with the most cowardice ... I happened upon a selection from "The Prophet." It then occurred to me that sometimes in the act of betrayal -- the aspect viewed as cowardice may not be that at all and can become a potent teacher. We can take the deep heart & soul wound and re-fashion from that horrific pain another thing. The courage to forgive, be free, and move forward past the unyielding rock. We can kiss a star with a comet's tail and thank the Teacher for our Joy that I know awaits just beyond the Sorrowed veil.
GIBRAN called this "The Farewell." I'll call it Angel In My Pocket.
And now it was evening.
And Almitra the seeress said,
"Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has
spoken."
And he answered,
Was it I who spoke? Was I not also a listener?
Then he descended the steps of the Temple and all the people followed him.
And he reached his ship and stood upon the deck.
And facing the people again, he raised his voice and said:
People of Orphalese, the wind bids me leave you.
Less hasty am I than the wind, yet I must go.
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way,
begin no day where we have ended another
day;
and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.
Even while the earth sleeps we travel.
We are the seeds of the tenacious plant,
and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart
that we are given to the wind and are scattered.
Brief were my days among you,
and briefer still the words I have spoken.
But should my voice fade in your ears,
and my love vanish in your memory,
then I will come again,
And with a richer heart and lips more yielding to the spirit will I speak.
Yea, I shall return with the tide,
And though death may hide me,
and the greater silence enfold me,
yet again will I seek your
understanding.
And not in vain will I seek.
If aught I have said is truth,
that truth shall reveal itself in a clearer voice,
and in words more
kin to your thoughts.
I go with the wind, people of Orphalese,
but not down into emptiness;
And if this day is not a fulfillment of your needs and my love,
then let it be a promise till another day.
Know therefore, that from the greater silence I shall return.
The mist that drifts away at dawn,
leaving but dew in the fields,
shall rise and gather into a
cloud and then fall down in rain.
And not unlike the mist have I been.
In the stillness of the night I have walked in your streets,
and my spirit has entered your houses,
And your heart-beats were in my heart,
and your breath was upon my face,
and I knew you all.
Ay, I knew your joy and your pain,
and in your sleep your dreams were my dreams.
And oftentimes I was among you a lake among the mountains.
I mirrored the summits in you and the bending slopes,
and even the passing flocks of your
thoughts and your desires.
And to my silence came the laughter of your children in streams,
and the longing of your youths in rivers.
And when they reached my depth the streams and the rivers ceased not yet to sing.
But sweeter still than laughter and greater than longing came to me.
It was boundless in you;
The vast man in whom you are all but cells and sinews;
He in whose chant all your singing is but a soundless throbbing.
It is in the vast man that you are vast,
And in beholding him that I beheld you and loved you.
For what distances can love reach that are not in that vast sphere?
What visions, what expectations and what presumptions can outsoar that flight?
Like a giant oak tree covered with apple blossoms is the vast man in you.
His mind binds you to the earth,
his fragrance lifts you into space,
and in his durability you are deathless.
You have been told that, even like a chain,
you are as weak as your weakest link.
This is but half the truth.
You are also as strong as your strongest link.
To measure you by your smallest deed
is to reckon the power of ocean by the frailty of its foam.
To judge you by your failures
is to cast blame upon the seasons for their inconsistency.
Ay, you are like an ocean,
And though heavy-grounded ships await the tide upon your shores, yet, even like an ocean,
you cannot hasten your tides.
And like the seasons you are also,
And though in your winter you deny your spring,
Yet spring, reposing within you, smiles in her drowsiness and is not offended.
Think not I say these things in order that you may say the one to the other,
"He praised us well. He saw but the good in us."
I only speak to you in words of that which you yourselves know in thought.
And what is word knowledge but a shadow of wordless knowledge?
Your thoughts and my words are waves from a sealed memory that keeps records of our
yesterdays,
And of the ancient days when the earth knew not us nor herself,
And of nights when earth was upwrought with confusion,
Wise men have come to you to give you of their wisdom.
I came to take of your wisdom:
And behold I have found that which is greater than wisdom.
It is a flame spirit in you ever gathering more of itself,
While you, heedless of its expansion,
bewail the withering of your days.
It is life in quest of life in bodies that fear the grave.
There are no graves here.
No comments:
Post a Comment