I spent yesterday with new grandchild. Mainly I sat and held him, and looked into his eyes, and watched him sleep.
What is the enchantment of a new being in one’s arms? It’s incomprehensible that such a being exists, such a culmination of evolution, and combining of generations from the past.
I’m with these words of Pir Elias Amidon:
Every time you think you’ve got it, it goes.
Every time you let it go, you’ve got it.
Lately, there’s something in me knowing the words of Rilke are so true.
How surely gravity’s law,
strong as an ocean current,
takes hold of the smallest thing
and pulls it toward the heart of the world.
each stone, blossom, child—
is held in place.
Only we, in our arrogance,
push out beyond what we each belong to
for some empty freedom.
If we surrendered
to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees.
Instead we entangle ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and confused.
So like children, we begin again
to learn from the things,
because they are in God’s heart;
they have never left him.
This is what the things can teach us:
patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird has to do that
before he can fly.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God