Wendy Sarno, one of my tribe members in Kim Rosen’s Mystery School, is a remarkable poet and writer – for a taste of her artistry, check out Writings from Wild Soul. Wendy, who lives in Missouri, introduced me to Canadian poet, Jan Zwicky, whose book Forge, offers a collection of poems eloquent and searing, such as this one.

Recently, I browsed through pages of my journal from several years ago, and was mildly shocked to discover that my reflections then were pretty much the same as yesterday’s journal entries: musing about some pattern in my life.

The patterns of your life repeat themselves
until you listen.

Just like music, with its repeated motifs, so my life contains repeated patterns that often fall short of my ideals. I often regard my vulnerabilities as weaknesses that must be eradicated through constant self-awareness and vigilant and diligent spiritual practice. Then I will finally reach – what? – an antiseptic state of unchanging goodness? A mistaken delusion.

What if I held my imperfect life as a story that could, and did, and does, start anywhere. That within this ‘splintered being’ lies the starlight of the soul. And that my song, along with your song, are worth singing and listening to.