Some days I need to go deeper. I just listened to Leonard Cohen’s performance of “Hallelujah” in London. I will insert the link at the end of this note. I feel that my life has indeed been shattered twice, both times irreparably. Some would question this and that doesn’t bother me, for I have to inhabit my own experiences. They don’t.

A huge iceberg of grief lies underneath my persona. Most days it doesn’t interfere with my life, yet it is always there. It is a peculiar kind of debt, pain and grace rolled into one.

Having paid the debt of grief so deeply, I hesitate to undergo such suffering again. And some suffering is avoidable.

When I say that, I speak of the few choices that we seem to have while on the earth plane. I can choose to honor my introversion, for example. I can discard any twinges of guilt about this and remember how I learned to soar above the sorrow with wings of awareness. Why should I put up with situations that don’t fulfill me?

In January my light is low. I survive only by withdrawing deeply and avoiding the cold weather and crowds. Yesterday I went to the library and to the grocery. That put me in touch with humanity, albeit briefly. A smile at the woman that checked out my books. Another one to the checker at the market. I need social contact in a minimal way.

Do not fall for the idea that you can listen to an enlightened being and know only self-acceptance and self-awareness. That is a huge trap that is avoided only by honest witnessing of your actual condition. We sleep through most of our days, all claims to the contrary.

Life is huge and frightening. Leonard knew that and wrote about it. I get nourishment from his words and music. This is a classic version of Hallelujah. It doesn’t get any better than this.