Thinking of the Phoenix

Rising from the ashes is one of the most enduring metaphors of humanity. It is the hope of transformation that gives us the strength to crawl in the mud and squalor of a diminished life.

The animal shivers in her den with the expectation of spring, but only we have the means to create a new spring within ourselves, because only we share in the miracle of creation simply by an act of will. This is the magic of our lives: we can do and undo all that we've wrought on ourselves and others; we can pledge ourselves to each other simply by saying, "I do." We change course with an ease that is astounding--but only if we break the shackles that hold us to the beaten ground; only if we stop pushing the unwieldy regret before us.

We never fully open our eyes. We content ourselves with living in the half light between sleep and wakefulness, and in this groggy state we chew on the bones of the day. Half starved, we look to the sky and bleakly remember the story of the Phoenix. We remember that bird not for everything it did, but for the one thing it did—We must always do that one thing.