Here is a poem my friend Carrie sent me not too long ago:
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Have you had this experience? Of watching yourself do the motions of life instead of actually living. Of giving so much of yourself away that you feel estranged from your own being?
I love the image of greeting myself at my own door and inviting myself to a meal. I love the visual of peeling my image from the mirror. Of re-inhabiting and reclaiming my identity.
I love the simplicity and warmth of remembering and learning and rediscovering self. (It a little bit makes me think of this song – one of my favorites, and a cool video, too.)
This poem calls me to a sitting that finally means rest and a feasting that welcomes hopeful celebration and new beginnings.