Some things are so dizzyingly beautiful which is why it is wrapped in mystery. Our finite minds may not be able to comprehend it; so, it hidden from our sight.

I’ve looked at artwork, like Van Gogh’s sun flowers, I mean- original ones that the Clark Institute had on display. The show was breathtaking, literally. I stopped breathing it seemed an eternity passed as I gazed in wonder.

Maybe then, things we can’t see, the sublime things that remain hidden, are for those who seek them. It’s possible, too, that human beings hide themselves in dark places, so that the light of beauty cannot find them. Maybe its because sometimes we have to have ugliness in life, to appreciate beauty?

It’s a mercy of God, then, to leave us in our hiding places. It’s beautiful and sad, that we hide from Love Itself. In those imagined places of refuge, we wrestle with our doubts and fears, struggle to live dreams. Fail over and over (at least I did).

It’s like a war in the underworld, where we live in silence – in our human ‘being.’ As Life is all around, Love actually is all around. But, there is darkness around us to; and, in us. That is the difficulty. How can I understand light or beauty without the dark shadows that magnify its brilliance?

“Being” is a noun- a human being. But, it also seems like a verb, an action word. Like it’s alive.

Being in its essence then, has to more than existing. Being must be embracing the full dimension of our existence and our potential. If we are not being the selves we ought to be, it’s because the dark underworld is constraining us. Or, we are damaged. So, we wrestle.

At my beautiful house at Mulberry Farm, I wrestled: with creatures making home in it’s attics and stray corners; with bittersweet climbing into my barn windows. I contended with my past; which as vigorously as an invasive vine, crept into windows of my present.

Wrestling is good. It’s makes us strong and fit. Skillful, clever, astute, if we want to survive. It helps us decide what actually is worth fighting for? I don’t know why some people don’t win, or don’t fight…

But, whether we are conscious of it or not, the war, the wrestling, the suffering helps us be our true selves. It forges out our being, like a statue that emerges after all the unnecessary stone surrounding it is taken away.

That is what Michaelangelo said about the statue of David, I believe. The figure existed in the stone already. He could see it. His job as sculptor was to remove the stone that was hiding him.

I miss my beautiful house and wrestling with it!