I came home late last night after walking home from Valentine's dinner with my wonderful friends. The beauty of a small town is that I can walk just about anywhere. We chose a local restaurant, The Hatchery, to be our Valentine's celebration evening. We drank bottles of wine, told stories, and stayed until the waxing moon was high in the sky and Orion was prevailing over the end of winter. We walked home at the Midnight hour down the middle of the quiet streets and noticed most lights were off in this sleepy town.
Our evening conversation led me to share this piece of writing that I found on one of my favorite blog sites, The Drawing Board.
I hope you enjoy it as well.
"The beauty that emerges from woundedness is a beauty infused with feeling; a beauty different from the beauty of landscape and the cold perfect form. This is a beauty that has suffered its way through the ache of desolation until the words or music emerged to equal the hunger and desperation at its heart. It must also be said that not all woundedness succeeds in finding its way through to beauty of form. Most woundedness remains hidden, lost inside forgotten silence. Indeed, in every life there is some wound that continues to weep secretly, even after years of attempted healing. Where woundedness can be refined into beauty a wonderful transfiguration takes place. " -- John O'Donohue
Sunday, February 13, 2011
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