Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well-lived.
(I think.) We all like to believe we are the be-all to end-all solution to the adverse we face. Complex problems are produced by simple acts gone awry. Well meaning people get tangled in their desires that eventually overtake all soundness of mind. We become corrupt in thought not out of kindness but selfishness. I think I stand in such a bubble.
My bubble bumps my neighbor’s bubble and on and on the bubbles bump. In time the bubbles burst and the earth is covered in a sticky film that does not wash away easily. It takes effort to see clearly.
The reflection that digs into my soul has both a hatchet and a pick. A hatchet to chop off major faults and a pick to clear the crevices. What is left of a person who undergoes such surgery?
Many find religion compensates for the faults of man. Those who object I ask, would you die for another? Most likely yes. Would you die for a stranger? Possibly. For evil of others? Probably not.
What drives a person to hang for wrong deeds that are not their own? Was Jesus a narcissist? A delusional lunatic? In the minds of some yes. So those who have faith, the affect of such love, to believe they are forgiven, not forsaken to their own hands, rest easy. You too may be ridiculed, beaten in the market of ideas but steadfastness is a peculiar trait.
“Well, then, I will tell you. Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne, and I myself have founded great empires; but on what did these creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions would die for Him.”
— Napoleon Bonoparte
World leaders such as Bonoparte are frowned upon in the “modern” age. Jesus is too. Or anyone who subscribes to such a philosophy. So the world waits until every knee surrenders to what? If not Napoleon or Jesus, who?
Look around. Is this world any more peaceful. Do platitudes of “Be happy” make us so? Will we follow anyone who promises peace? Are we really still so gullible?
1 Thessalonians 5:3 “While people are saying, ‘Peace and security,’ destruction will come upon them suddenly, like labor pains on a pregnant woman, and they will not escape.”
What of the little wars within ourselves? Are these not battles we should wage? I profess they are worthy! Inner battles given to circumspect.
Those who choose to end their inner battle we fight for their freedom to end life? Why is life not respected? Is pain only fought with the sword? Where are we in their hour of need?
“It is a higher glory still to stay war itself with a word, than to slay men with the sword,” –St Augustine
Memories are stepping stones to future endeavors and concurrently sticking points to moving on. I would go out on a limb and say most of us have recollections somewhere tucked away, perhaps yours in the back of the mind. Memories are the collage of life and when painted, varied and unique. Mine would be a mixture of social responsibility and natural endeavors.
“For myself, the only way I know how to make a book is to construct it like a collage: a bit of dialogue here, a scrap of narrative, an isolated description of a common object, an elaborate running metaphor which threads between the sequences and holds different narrative lines together.” Hilary Mantel
I am a country and city girl and one without the other would be unacceptable. One scenery fulfills the needs the other could never replicate. My father was a farm boy, the middle child and the first to do many endeavors. He was the first child in his family to be bused to school, was a terrific student but with a will to be independent he took off to explore. He worked odd jobs to buy his first piece of cool transportation. That car triggered his solo flight to somewhere, anywhere, leaving his mother to mourn his departure. My mother was a city girl who touted education as a way to success. Their individual outlooks on life seem to clash but it worked for them. They eventually sharpened the other to be respectively educated and likewise garner a love of the natural world.
The foundation of life was set long ago, centuries to be exact. The million dust particles are but the sand dunes we are destined to crawl through. I believe it is education and a love of reading, inquiring philosophically, psychologically and spiritually, regarding man’s destiny, that serves us well. And when we need a break we can rely on the beach waves to take us far, far away.
“Suppose within each book there is another book, and within every letter on every page another volume constantly unfolding; but these volumes take no space on the desk. Suppose knowledge could be reduced to a quintessence, held within a picture, a sign, held within a place which is no place. Suppose the human skull were to become capacious, spaces opening inside it, humming chambers like beehives.” Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall
Click here should you like to hear Hilary Mantel’s five Reith Lectures, Resurrection: The Art and Craft.
In fear and trembling,
destiny’s road perishes.
With courage, horizons come to light.
Buddhism makes sense if life was as easy as smiling at the future. I strive for a personal peace (which i mostly acquired) making sense of “adult” ideas and ideals, finding myself buried under people’s wants and wishes. The partnership of those concepts drives anxiety. Develops depression.
I never see what has been done; I only see what remains to be done.
To live takes courage, to creatively think outside the box. Potential journeys appear predestined, forged from a void. Mystical visions of a foreign future guided by voices. A message to undergird a developed determination, a way forward donned in pants, carried strength in blind faith and as we all die, meet our end.
I ask, “Are we (not) happy in the pursuit?” I imagine we are, carrying our heart to the fire. This fire burns in countless imaginations. We do not stand in line and wait for the world to shine, we shine in and for it.
There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke. –V. van Gogh
Who rules? There must be order. Rules. Direction. I do not consider myself an anarchist, rather an advocate. All humanity at some point in time has felt invisible, depressed, confused, hungry for love. The greatest way to make change is be change.
What is your aim in philosophy?
To show the fly the way out of the fly-bottle.
I wonder what planet awaits a mind able to override saturnine thoughts.
“Your will to survive, your love of life, your passion to know … Everything that is truest and best in all species of beings has been revealed to you. Those are the qualities that make a civilization worthy to survive.”
–Lai the Vian, “The Empath” (Star Trek)
What mirror holds you? See? Look into the staring eyes, release the eager heart, break the calcified shell to birth a new start. Are we all not souls as luminous as Shakespeare, Mother Theresa and Gandhi?
Can you believe someone, somewhere understands? If not here, where? Perhaps in the end only you can save you.
May kicked my butt. Math hijacked my right brain. Yet I am back and motivation has not left me behind bringing me back to blogging and glad to be here.
I can say jubilantly “The five week statistics class is over!”
I eventually found, daily digging into mathematical equations, left me incompetent to think of anything remotely creative. X-values and r-squared, y(x) + 1.235= some number to chart, I leave that behind for someone else to do. My brain is not wired for such things.
“We are not concerned with the very poor. They are unthinkable, and only to be approached by the statistician or the poet.” — E.M. Forster
Sadly, in many ways, hypocrisy is true. The irony is social justice, which I am studying, uses powerless statistics in describing injustice to the powerless. Community is lost to take care of the poor, the work left for a few individuals to tackle. Abuse of many natures, mental health, employment, substance abuse and addiction are a few struggles people face daily. Some are able to overcome and others never are able to dig out of the pit. Perhaps we can only help one person at a time. Laws and legislation change the framework of society but will never change apathy.
“It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.” A Room with a View
“Spoon feeding in the long run teaches us nothing but the shape of the spoon.”
(E.M. Forest, a British writer whose many books, A Room with a View, Howards End and A Passage to India, examined early 20th-century British society’s class differences and hypocrisy. Those three novels were made into American movies along with A Diary for Timothy, Maurice, Where Angels Fear to Tread and A Room with a View remake in 2007.)
“The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible”
–Vladimir Nabokov, Russian-American novelist.
count the stars
watch them disappear
in the design of colored pencils
write the formula out
solve the mystery of time.
Suppose the creativity of your design is based on numbers and then add us all up and develop humanity. Add a God to the formula and hell brakes loose. Ego disrupts the original plan and all along time we are born into this chaos. Moms and dads prune the branches of desire but the warmth of the sun and the chill of evening do nothing to sever the consequences. We are doomed. Or maybe not. Someone will solve the mystery of time.
To all graduates. In memory of my brother. I am sorry I let you down, my pursuit in your honor. To my son, the future is yours to get and give and enjoy between the toil.
Four years is a lifetime for an 18 year old heading to college and triumph is a Bachelor degree in hand. The Indiana University chemistry graduation commencement speech was given by a professor who related The Goldilocks Theory of one means against another. The trial of studies and the triumph of studies, a paradoxical life lived. We get what we give. Between the two is gratitude.
““Can a truly absurd universe so convincingly mimic a meaningful one?”
–Paul Davies, astrophysicist
Live a temporary means of life and death, birth and burial; the golden middle. Aristotle, an ancient Greek philosopher, desired the difference between two extremes, one excess and the other deficiency. We need not depression or fire but the calm presence of others who direct us on this pilgrimage. In our quest for truth we learn to understand our perceptions are skewed by environment and inner thoughts. In truth lies beauty. In beauty lies hope. In hope lies peace.
“He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.” —Aristotle
Between courage and bondage lies freedom. Wisdom to know the difference between pain and healing sprouts wings. Between pursuit and victory lies life. Now the graduate is set free to move from the cocoon to find self.
“Without friends, no one would want to live, even if he had all other goods.”
Graduate, surround yourself not as an island who scours the land and sets sail to new beginnings. Lay roots in other hearts and share generously the fruit of your labor. We who are left alone are but food for greed.
I have wanted to write this since Saturday and finally found time to share. Always, J
When you’re alone at home, do you wear shoes, socks, slippers, or go barefoot?
Barefoot. I love socks but can only stand them for 10 minutes then off they go, lost in the fourth dimension. I hate slippers. Shoes are only worn to get service.
What was your favorite food when you were a child?
Spaghetti!! And tuna. Ok, it is SPAGHETTI!! I had serious food issues in teenhood and still do but then who doesn’t?
Are you a listener or talker?
Listener. Hate talking. Would rather write letters and pick just the right words…
Favorite thing to do (pick one): Photograph? Write? Or Cook?
Lately it is writing. Actually it is gardening but that is cheating since it is not on the list. So writing!!
“A story is a garden you carry in your pocket.” Alexandra Curry, author The Courtesan
What is the easiest way for your to learn something new? By reading, by seeing and doing, in a classroom?
I have to see and then do. I have terrible reading comprehension. I can read a whole book and remember only one thing about it. I do remember more than the title…I surmise the novel into one paragraph much like writing poetry.
Thanks for reading my blog. It makes my day since most people never delve into the depths of my sea. Ok, it is probably because they can’t stand me but hey… J😎💛💋