What do you long for, and what might feed it?
Deep winter. Scatter of stars. The howling of wolves laps the cold mountain ridges. Even in hunger, we take refuge in the warmth of our pack. Blessed are we who remember that we longed for this communion, too. As the moon sheds its shadow night by night, we give voice to our yearning, finding a new kind of sustenance. What joy is to be found in shared hunger? What do you long for, and what might feed it?
Sit comfortably in a quiet place. Take a few slow, deep breaths. As you exhale, bring your palms to your cheeks. Sit quietly, gently cradling your face. Pat your cheeks. Remember your longings. Breathe.
A tough will counts. So does desire.
So does a rich soft wanting.
Without rich wanting nothing arrives.
- Carl Sandburg, “A Father to His Son”