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David Whyte TED Talk

JulieandPeter

Active Member
Camino(s) past & future
Frances (April/May 2015)
Frances (May/June 2017)
Planning Le Puy to SJPDP (August/September 2018)
#1
A friend of mine posted this April 2017 TED Talk by David Whyte on my Facebook page this morning. I have not seen it on this forum, so thought I would share it here. Enjoy! :)

https://www.ted.com/talks/david_why...om&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=tedspread-a

"David Whyte meditates on the frontiers of the past, present and future, sharing two poems inspired by his niece's hike along El Camino de Santiago de Compostela in Spain."
 

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Camino(s) past & future
Francés ('14/'15)
St Olav/Francés ('16)
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#2
Thanks for the treat, Julie!
These have long been favorite poems, so it's very good to hear them directly.
 

JulieandPeter

Active Member
Camino(s) past & future
Frances (April/May 2015)
Frances (May/June 2017)
Planning Le Puy to SJPDP (August/September 2018)
#3
Thank you Viranani!
Whyte's TED talk which my friend posted on my FB timeline resonated with me this morning for many reasons. I will not elaborate here except to say as a result, I searched on this forum for his poems and came across the poem you posted as well as this one below (posted by amorfat1), both of which made me realize the value of a poem. Thank you!

The Well - by David Whyte - (in Pilgrim)

Be thankful now for having arrived,
for the sense of
having drunk
from a well,
for remembering the long drought that preceded your arrival
and the years walking in a desert landscape of surfaces looking for a spring hidden from you for so long that even wanting to find it now had gone from your mind
until you only
remembered the hard pilgrimage that brought you here,
the thirst that caught in your throat; the taste of a world just-missed
and the dry throat that came from a love you remembered but had never fully wanted for yourself, until finally, after years making the long trek to get here it was as if your whole achievement had become nothing but thirst itself.

But the miracle had come simply from allowing yourself to know that you had found it,
that this time
someone walking out into the clear air from far inside you
had decided not to walk past it anymore;
the miracle had come at the roadside in the kneeling to drink
and the prayer you said,
and the tears you shed
and the memory
you held
and the realization
that in this silence
you no longer had to keep your eyes and ears averted from the
place that
could save you,
that you had been given
the strength to let go
of the thirsty dust laden
pilgrim-self
that brought you here,
walking with her
bent back, her bowed head and her careful explanations.

No, the miracle had already happened
when you stood up,
shook off the dust
and walked along the road from the well,
out of the desert toward the mountain,
as if already home again, as if you
deserved what you loved all along,
as if just remembering the taste of that clear cool spring could lift up your face
and set you free.
 


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