our path of remembering

1-Pics for Blog Edits187

The soul, in its loneliness, hopes only for “salvation.” And yet what is the burden of the Bible if not a sense of the mutuality of influence, rising out of an essential unity, among soul and body and community and world? These are all works of God, and it is therefore the work of virtue to make or restore harmony among them. The world is certainly thought of as a place of spiritual trial, but is also the confluence of soul and body, word and flesh, where thoughts must become deeds, where goodness is to be enacted. This is the great meeting place, the narrow passage where spirit and flesh, word and world, pass into each other. The Bible’s aim, as I read it, is not the freeing of the spirit from the world. It is the handbook of their interaction. It says that they cannot be divided; that their mutuality, their unity, is inescapable; that they are not reconciled in division, but in harmony. What else can be meant by the resurrection of the body? The body should be “filled with light,” perfected in understanding. And so everywhere there is the sense of consequence, fear and desire, grief and joy. What is desirable is repeatedly defined in the tensions of the sense of consequence. We are to treat others as we would be treated; thought is thus barred from any easy escape into aspiration or ideal, is turned around and forced into action………..Wendell Berry

 

do you remember how to find the next right step? the prayer that soothes? the conscious remembrance to feel? the “old soul” meanderings? just be, dear friends……

People normally cut reality into compartments,
and so are unable to see the interdependence
of all phenomena. To see one in all and all in one
is to break through the great barrier which narrows
one’s perception of reality.
…….Thich Nhat Hanh

finding the ground of being

For now, just look, and look again. This, then, is to respect. We know the work, but when we choose to truly live it- to look again with sincerity and depth- the heavy, dull sensation we call “numb” slips away across the landscape like a cloud shadow in wind. We see the vast red rock emptiness left behind, windblown and raw, bared to bone. Bared to the bone, we too become raw and vulnerable. We often regress, slipping away from the world hiding and peering from the very crack that initiates recovery. Weathering the blues, we look to sky, wide and now blazing with stars and dark, deep, the vast unknown. Is it wonder or terror we see there? Are we ultimately at home in the world? Or are we still adolescent and angry? Do we hiss through the throat of repression, the ancient losses still unspoken? I hiss, like Snake. I see myself hissing in a fine meting of colleagues. There is no visible reason for this, but it is a sure sign, a signal that I am uncoiling, shedding, breaking the crusty shell of defense. I crack open- we crack it open- cracked open by loss. The poignant loss of a beloved world, drowning in toxins. Of a salty marsh, of the fish swimming there, drowning in toxins. We crack open, dense with true desire…..Laura Sewall

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