"At the still point of the turning world."
[TS Eliot: Four Quartets, Burnt Norton]
I cannot really explain it, other than in that phrase. Or the stillness of this icon. Pointing to "heart-work" : Deep calling on deep.
Four Quartets, a poem I have long pondered. Now read this! says this exquisite review of it, from which I select one pertinent quote:
Perhaps the greatest conundrum of human existence is time, its evanescence balanced by its relentlessness. We can only understand it in the presence of things, such as the "drained pool," itself a metaphor for time; and we can only understand things in the context of time, their creation, existence, and passing. And, beyond that, most crucially, is what we cannot see or hear or experience as duration, what those of a spiritual bent, "the unseen eyebeam", perpetually seek: "for the roses/Had the look of flowers that are looked at". For Eliot, as he says later in Burnt Norton, we can only find that "at the still point of the turning world", where time and being eternally intersect
[Christopher Guerin's review of Four Quartets]
Turning Point: To the still point.
"A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)"
[TS Eliot: Four Quartets, Little Gidding]
For a long time I've been torn two ways. Always I have struggled with that. Always, till now, the need to engage actively pressed upon me. Not now. Now, it would seem, I have said and done what needed saying and doing. I have no more to say. Not here. Not now.
Some know how to contact me. Others know who those "some" are.
I hold you in my heart. Even more than before. I am drawn deeper. Everything points in that direction. I am at peace.
I bid you Peace as well.