I came across this quote while reading a back issue of The Sun:
“There are joys which long to be ours. [The universe] sends ten thousand truths, which come about us like birds seeking inlet; but we are shut up to them, and so they bring us nothing, but sit and sing awhile upon the roof, and then fly away.”
-Henry Ward Beecher
(I substituted the words in brackets, as the G-word is not my personal choice for the forces larger than ourselves, having been tainted and anthropomorphized–and not in a good way–by organizers of Western religions. More on this some other time.)
I love the concept of ten thousand truths–I interpret it as the insights and epiphanies, big and small, that seem to appear at odd times in my life. Often on dog walks, actually, or at moments when I lie on my back on a paddleboard in a quiet part of the lake, soaking up solar energy, still water and silence. Or smack in the middle of some quotidian task or interaction. Sometimes they arrive when I’m engaged in conversation with my confidantes, who make the space for me to coax them to the surface and breathe life into them.
Some days, I get one, or none. And some days are jackpot life-lesson lottery days, where the insights come so fast and furious that some are lost temporarily before I can write them down. I do fret about the ones I’ve lost sight of, until I realize that if it’s really one of my ten thousand, it will come back to me. The key is to watch for them, notice them, and let them in.
I love it when one of my personal ten thousand truths reveals itself to me, and get equally excited when a client uncovers one of their significant truths. The realization that my 10,000 is unique to me, and theirs to them, helps me understand on a sort of mathematical level how we’re all on different paths. When I define my path in terms of what’s true for me, I can be free of those annoying tweets from my Inner Comparinator, and revel in my singularity.