Tag Archive | courage

Reading Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling #3–Finished!

I took this picture, a little over four years ago, during my first attempt to read Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling. Last July I began my second attempt.

imageReading this 165-page book has felt like one long lesson in perseverance and so much more difficult than I initially thought it would be. Thus, it is with great gladness that I finally say,  my perseverance has been rewarded and I have finished! 😀

I’m hoping to post further, regarding my thoughts, in the not-too-distant future. Until then, I’ll just leave you with this quote that sums up a lot of what Kierkegaard has to say about faith. It’s also one of my favourites from the book.

(As a side note, and along the lines of my appreciation of Kierkegaard’s writing in my last “Reading Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling  post, “cold and clammy mollusc” is really a perfect way to describe a mixture of arrogance and pitifulness. 🙂 )

clammy molluscSurely anyone with a speck of erectior ingenii [nobility of mind] cannot become so completely the cold and clammy mollusc as to lose sight altogether, in approaching the great, of the fact that ever since the Creation it has been accepted practice for the outcome to come last, and that if one is really to learn something from the great it is precisely the beginning one must attend to. If anyone on the verge of action should judge himself according to the outcome, he would never begin. Even though the result may gladden the whole world, that cannot help the hero; for he knows the result only when the whole thing is over, and that is not how he becomes a hero, but by virtue of the fact that he began.”
—Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling

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“The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

IMG_0298rs“There are lovers content with longing.
I’m not one of them.”
-Rumi

I came across the above Rumi quote, for the first time, today. I love it and I think it could serve as an epigram for another poem I recently came across called “The Invitation” by a Canadian poet, I’d never heard of before, named Oriah Mountain Dreamer. Thankfully, I heard the poem first, then discovered the poet, not vice versa, as (at least, at first glance) I would normally have been disinclined to give a poet with a name like “Mountain Dreamer” a chance. (Yes, unfortunately, I’m that kind of person.)

It’s always a joy to happen upon something that seems to articulate the jumble of emotions, thoughts and things you’ve been feeling and thinking and learning and attempting to live out. It’s like coming across a little embodiment of your soul and, simultaneously, discovering that you are not alone, that someone else (a much more articulated someone else 🙂 ) sees and shares the same truth as you. That’s pretty much how I feel about “The Invitation”.

IMG_0295

The Invitation
It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know 
if you will risk 
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are 
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you 
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know 
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone 
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book The Invitation
published by HarperONE, San Francisco,
1999 All rights reserved

I think I can resonate with just about everything Ms. Oriah Mountain Dreamer says, aside, perhaps, from:

“It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.”

If you are telling me a story about you, it is of great interest to me that it be true, unless it’s not meant to be a true story.

Another thing I don’t quite understand is how being faithless equals being trustworthy.

“I want to know…If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.”

There is a time for faith and a time for doubt. Perhaps she’s saying you have to be honest enough with yourself to admit you are faithless, when you lack the faith–i.e., you are trustworthy if you can be honest about being faithless. If that were the case, I’d definitely agree with her. (If you, dear reader, thinks she is perhaps saying something else and would like to enlighten me, I’d gladly welcome your opinion.)

On the whole, I think this poem embodies what it means to be brave and accept the invitation to life, wholeheartedly, embracing the joy, the sorrow, the success, the failure, the fragility, the hope, the beauty, the bruises, the betrayals, the dreams, the desires, the disappointment, the darkness, the light, the love, the pain, the magic, the madness, the mystery, the grace–embracing it all. It’s about accepting the invitation to be–to be authentic, vulnerable, honest and fully present in one’s own life. It’s a challenge to be courageous enough to love fully and face your fears, to move forward with eyes and heart open wide, to dare to become who you truly are.

I try constantly and I fail a lot. It’s not easy, but I keep trying. I’ve accepted the invitation and it’s who I’m determined to be or die trying. 🙂

Ps. Immediately after posting this, I just realised the answer to my own question regarding “faithless and therefore trustworthy.” (I could just erase that whole part, but I thought I’d leave it and add this on the chance that it may help someone who may be perplexed as I was.) The key is in the preceding lines:

I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

You lose the faith of someone else “to be true to yourself”. You become faithless, because you’ve lost the faith someone had in you and “bear the accusation of betrayal”, in order that you might “not betray your own soul”; therefore you are trustworthy. It’s brilliant! 😀