“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”
– Julian of Norwich
This phrase has been echoing in my mind the last few days.
What does it mean?
It’s not promising an easy life.
It’s pointing to something more. A background okay-ness, even as the foreground erupts.
I am angry and hurting. And all shall be well.
I am scared and worrying. And all shall be well.
We will win or lose. And all shall be well.
We will age and die. And all shall be well.
All shall be well. All is well. Even when it isn’t.
It can’t not be.
A poem from my upcoming book, quintessence: the poetry of true nature, published 2nd April 2019.