Let it find you.

I recently stumbled upon a brilliant interview given by an Irish poet named David Whyte. In this interview, they mention that poets are the technicians of the sacred, and I firmly believe this to be true.

"How do you know that you're on your path? Because it disappears," he says. "You are going to enter the black contemplative splendors of self-doubt at the same time that you're setting out on the radical new path."

He cites another poem, written by David Wagoner, from the perspective of an elder. It answers the question, "what do I do if I'm lost in a forest?"

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest breathes. Listen. It answers, I have made this place around you. If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here. No two trees are the same to Raven. No two branches are the same to Wren. If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you, You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows Where you are. You must let it find you.

You have 100 reason at any given moment to not create real change in your life. What are you willing to give up to let life find you?