Blessing for Sudden, Unwanted Change

When your future, which opened like a map in front of you,

marked with familiar symbols you could read

and roads you could trace confidently with your fingertip,

saying, And after this, I will go here—

When winds you neither anticipated nor welcomed

Have blown away your map

And you find yourself unequipped in a lonely place—

Now, when your paths are unchartered and symbols implacable,

now in this sudden silence of unanswered questions,

in the clamor of anger and injustice—

Breathe.

Refuse to let anxiety dictate a new map;

Do not let restlessness drive you.

Instead, here between leave and arrive

may you find a quiet space, removed and hallowed.

May you feel the earth solid below your feet,

the sky stretching above you.

May you listen to the rhythm of your breath.

Inhale mercy and rest.

Exhale, giving thanks for all that was.

Then may you hear a voice that sings in you.

May you feel the ground beneath you,

which is love.

It will never depart on capricious wings.

Wherever you journey, it paves a way for you.

And may you see the sky above you,

which is goodness.

It will never be a stranger to you.

No, it is with you always.

_

I think perhaps this blessing stops at "Then may you hear a voice that sings in you."  Stop there if love and goodness seems like facile answers.  In my experience with sudden change or crisis, it takes me a while to come back to what I recognize eventually as unchanging bedrock, but in the midst of change I'm not ready to hear someone say words that seem too easy yet.  In my experience, recognizing those last two things is hard-won.  Goodness and love are not communicated by immediate circumstances but by faith in the unseen, and by that I truly do not mean to sound sanctimonious.  I know I have been comforted by the simple constancy of the sky above me and the earth below me.  But. . .please tell me if the blessing should stop before the last two stanzas.