Blessings (Pt 1)

Blessings on the sacred and mundane, inspired by the Celtic poet and Theologian John O'Donohue

Image via thriftbooks.com

Blessing for Leaving an Abusive Relationship

Blessed is the newfound freedom, the breath of endurance. On the other side of this suffering is a grief that shapeshifts, becoming sharp and thin–like a razors edge– and at times impossibly long and quiet, yawning outward like an oversized shadow from the late afternoon sun. 

Thank yourself, for all that was forced to be yours, is not. You are allowed. Collapse, skip, sob. Let your most sensual, earthly self, which has been caged away, step out into the morning sun. There, amongst honking geese and whispering leaves the breeze will caress you gently: you are safe here.

Blessing for Tears

Blessed are the tears, supple and swollen with all which cannot remain dormant. They spill from us like loose petals till we go fallow, ready for our next self to emerge and grow in the fertile emotional compost. We cry for suffering, loss, terror, joy. For no reason at all. Our soma thrumming lightly, fomenting a benevolent uprising against our intellect, which tells us logic rules all. Tears remind us: feeling is all. Our body’s way of saying “Hineni, I am here.”

Blessing for Blasting Music While Driving

Blessed is the moment you grasp the volume knob between thumb and forefinger and twist with reckless abandon, bringing forth music like a wave crashing over a wall that can’t contain it. An injection of mirth to the heart of the soul, may you be convicted with joy, finding yourself rolling down the windows, knowing how a falcon must feel, diving into the wind, screaming with life. 

Blessing for Friendship (Written for Nadav and Mikaela’s sheva brachot)

May you let friendship be the mortar in the mosaic of the love you build together, holding, shading, sturdying all that comes to pass in your lives. 

In your times of woundedness, when you feel feral and lost, may we be your gauze and tonic. In your most precious moments, may our witness bring the kiss of permanence. 

May you be good to your friends, and them to you, kneeling before the notion that alone we are water, together we are waves.