‘Turning and turning in the widening gyre.
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.’
WB Yeats in ‘The Second Coming’
And if I am to live well today; if I am to bless and be blessed in return, I will need my centre to be strong; to cope with the pull of opposites within
The urge to dominate, the urge to submit
To spill towards others and to hide behind my shell
The out-there anxious pleasing; the in-there ditch of shame
Both desire to give a kindly word; and to scream and act from my pain
The pendulum swings within me, now this, now that, the ebb and flow
And if the centre cannot hold – what then?
A ship on the rocks, things fall apart – an anarchy of energies, untethered and wild
If the centre cannot hold; if the centre cannot be held…
Deep breath and deep breath and another for luck; a look to the skies, a prayer on the wind
And ahh! My centre known, my centre held; the pendulum swings but the falcon hears the falconer –
Just for a moment, my centre held, my centre holds
