A Pattern of Essay

The night is darkening round me by Emily Brontë

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.

I’ve had several occasions over the past few years to see just how strong the will to live can be as friends and family fought their way through difficult and deeply personal health challenges. It’s a remarkable thing, really, when this mighty aspect of inner will pushes up through the dark and stormy clouds of despair and opens a pathway through which the light of the inner fires can shine forth to greet the dawning day.

Such moments cannot be rehearsed, neither can one say with certainty how they will be met should one’s number be drawn in the lottery of life. What can be set in advance, however, is a pattern of essay, a standard for handling whatever comes one’s way.

Establishing a habit with respect to the trivial moments is the best way to prepare for the pivotal times.

4 thoughts on “A Pattern of Essay

  • We have literally hundreds if not thousands of little choices to make every day, and learning how to effectively handle them and the making of the right choices leads us and prepares us to make the right choices when the less often but really significant choices come our way. It is no different than recognizing that our habits make us, for eventually, just like the little choices, they will catch up with us.

    If there is one piece of wisdom that I have learned over my years that I would like to pass on to others it would be to “do the little things right the first time”.

  • What a moving poem. Thank you for posting it. It’s true, every moment of our lives can build muscle that will almost certainly be needed or we can let our natural endurance and ability to rise above, atrophy. We don’t know when our light will be needed, so keeping our lamps filled with oil is not just intelligent it’s the only way we will be prepared to meet whatever the future holds.

  • There really seems to be a decision point for these things, a point where someone decides which way their life will go. Yet the ease which these decisions are made is forged in the myriad decisions that are made every day. Will you be someone that rolls over at the merest resistance, or will you be someone that “cannot, cannot go”, no matter what you feel you are up against?

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