Sometimes I read a passage, a book, a poem, and I know: I know that it's true, and truth is a kind of goodness that raises my thoughts, stirs my soul. I know it as a connection, unseen, between myself and the other being who wrote the words, expressed the feeling, the thought, the moment, and it's a comfort to be connected as beings, fragile, and delicate, powerful, resilient. I sometimes hear music, see art, feel emotions, and it reaches unseen places, and reconnects me with depths, dreams, like a good breath when I break through a wave that took me under. Maybe. I don't know. Have you ever reached down, swimming deeper, to touch the bottom, then felt the relief and satisfaction of coming back to the surface? For me, that ecstasy of breath feels a lot like the stirring inspiration of music, art, true words, a story that resonates.
And so, when I find that truth, that beauty, that ecstasy of breath from something inspiring, I know it is good, and I aspire to understand it, to touch it, to be deeply thankful for it. Sometimes it hurts, like grief, like loss, like a story that is full of pins, and fires, and cruel acts. These truths stir my soul, too, and give me a longing for understanding, for hope, for renewal, and redemption.
I think... weren't we fortunate to have Maya Angelou? To read her books, and hear her poetry? Wasn't it good that she spoke for justice, and equality, for peace and understanding? I did not know her, but I did feel her works, like a deep breath that made me glad, that raised my thoughts, and gave me a longing for renewal and understanding. Today there are so many uplifting, insightful, poignant quotes of Maya Angelou's being shared on the Internet, and I found one, today, that spoke for me, that I thought oh my gosh, she knew, too! She said, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Rest in peace, Maya Angelou, and thank you for the stories you told.