One must have chaos in one,
to give birth to a dancing star.
do we ever really learn to communicate our self-indulgent fears and transformations?….imagine those moments of love as something more than love…..seeing the fool’s love as if for the first time is what awakening really means…..only then do we understand why we are here and how we are called to love (a lifetime’s task)…..
That it’s rough out there and chancy is no surprise. Every live thing is a survivor on a kind of extended emergency bivouac. But at the same time we are also created. In the Koran, Allah asks, ‘The heaven and earth and all in between, thinkest thou I made them in jest?’ It’s a good question. What do we think of the created universe, spanning an unthinkable void with an unthinkable profusion of forms? Or what do we think of nothingness, those sickening reaches of time in either direction? Pascal uses a nice term to describe the notion of the creator’s, once having called forth the universe, turning his back to ti: ‘Deus Absconditus.’ Is this what we think happened? ‘God is subtle,’ Einstein said, ‘but not malicious.’ It could be that God has not absconded but spread, as our vision and understanding of the universe have spread, to a fabric of spirit and sense so grand and subtle, so powerful in a new way, that we can only feel blindly of its hem. In making the thick darkness a swaddling band for the sea, God ‘set bars and doors’ and said, ‘Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further.’ But have we come even that far? Cruelty is a mystery, and the waste of pain. But if we describe a world to encompass these things, a world that is a long, brute game, then we bump against another mystery: the inrush of power and light, the canary that sings on the skull. Unless all ages and races of men have been deluded by the same mass hypnotist, there seems to be such a thing as beauty, a grace wholly gratuitous. The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there…..Annie Dillard
The day I first saw inner earth from a bus window, I was one of many travelers poised between homes. We sat arm to arm, skin to skin. For a little while we were all anyone else had, homeless. At every abrupt turn the bus made, we were thrown helter skelter into one another, while outside our windows the vast outer world was showing us what our inner earth looked like. And so it is with you. You, too, are a traveler through this earth, sharing with everyone else not only an outer world that needs your car, but also a precious inner earth that is its reflection. You have only to look to this inner earth of yours, gently, and without haste, to discover how remarkably similar to the outer natural earth you are. She is a close relative of yours…..Joan Sauro