"Yet through depression we enter depths and in depths find soul. Depression is essential to the tragic sense of life. It moistens the dry soul, and dries the wet. It brings refuge, limitation, focus, gravity, weight, and humble powerlessness. It reminds of death. The true revolution begins in the individual who can be true to his or her depression. Neither jerking oneself out of it, caught in cycles of hope and despair, nor suffering through it till it turns, nor theologizing it - but discovering the consciousness and depths it wants. So begins the revolution in behalf of soul."
I sit with that, since the book Reality is also about honoring the underground, and cultivating soul. The evening is so lovely I almost feel tears, but not quite. A wonderful bird sang to me the last few nights, but not tonight. I wonder if he has found his mate, and now, they are safely tucked in a nest of love. The moon is resting gently among soft clouds. The night is warm, unusual for here, and still. I reach within for a napkin of understanding. I desire to tuck this luscious evening in a basket, and picnic on it in my sleep.