Sunday Visitor, Part II

Into the tender space of wholeness  by Matt Licata

If a child were to appear at your door – cold, scared, and tired from a long journey…
If he or she were anxious, heartbroken, raging, and confused…

Would you refuse entry to the little one? Would you first demand that his fear dissolve, her anxiety be healed, his confusion clarify, or her heart be mended?

In your most authoritative spiritual voice, would you urge the little one to first “get over it,” to accept everything the way it is, to urgently forgive those who have harmed him, to fall into the bliss of the moment, or to drop into the state of no-self?

Or would you provide sanctuary and safe passage from a long journey? A warm home in which the stories, the emotions, and the sensations of the little one can unfold, be illuminated, and be metabolized into the tender space of wholeness?

As Rumi reminds us, “Look as long as you can at the friend you love, no matter whether that friend is moving away or coming toward you.” The friend is always appearing, in both obvious and disguised forms, as the others in your life as well as the unmet ‘inner other’ of your heart.

Honor each of the forms that love take, allowing your heart to break when these forms change, for it is their nature to do so. This is not evidence that something has gone wrong, but only in the relentlessness of love to do whatever it must to find you.


I was very touched when I read this post from Matt Licata Sunday morning.  Paul left at his usual time to go on the road and I once again felt myself drop into a pit of fear, anxiety, and depression.

Paul’s leaving on a Sunday is still hard for me, however what makes it tolerable is knowing what the darkness is about. His leaving simply activates the wounding in me that has not yet been fully healed.

My Sunday “friend”, “visitor”, “angel”, is never about Paul leaving, but is always about being left by my daddy when I was a very small child. I have written about this before and I am aware that I have good Sundays and not so good Sunday’s. This past Sunday was one of those days when I felt the pain deep in my gut over being left and never being told why, if I would ever see my daddy again, and wondering if I did or said something wrong to drive him away. It feels like this is a wound that is bottomless and endless.

There are still large chunks of sadness in my being that need to be cradled, stroked tenderly, and given a voice. My wounded child needs to hear the words that should have been said to her when she was between the ages of three and four, but were never said.  Now, the adult, conscious me, can whisper these words to my child as I remind her that her daddy always loved her, his leaving had nothing to do with her, and that he had a disease that controlled his life.

I continue to hold a tender space of wholeness for my wounded child to express herself and to let go of her grief and sorrow. Thank you, Matt Licata, for reminding me once again the necessity of letting in all those disowned, buried feelings(the orphans of my soul) that come knocking at my door looking for a safe place to be seen and acknowledged.

Spirit is faithful and god/goddess hears and answers the longing in my heart to be whole and at peace with myself and life.  I am grateful to creator energy for the relentlessness of love that never gives up on me. I am blessed and life is good.


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