Cornflaked

 

Cornfield, July 25, 2025

Why did the cornflakes cross the road? It’s not a joke…well, maybe it is hinting toward one, inviting the kind of humor that copes with such mind&heart-numbing craziness that’s swirling off the world: political lies and flagrant abuse of law/morality/justice, religious hypocrisy, the obscenity of wealth concentration coupled with neglect of the poor, the threatened, the environment … 

Anyway, closer to home and concerning the usually-more-manageable woodlands and gardens here, the west wind’s been delivering mail: “cornflakes.” The no-longer green field across the road, now littered with debris from the harvested field corn, 

Cornfield, Nov 22, 2025

sends over each day (or minute) the thrashed remains. Here’s our front garden featuring the west wind’s recent unwelcome delivery contrasted with its appearance before getting cornflaked:

Nov 17, 2025

May 8, 2025

Perhaps the cornflakes could just be left to rot, but internet info says their decomposition takes over a year. Assuming that only in a few months, spring will come again, what’s the chance that the poppies and iris will break through layers of heavy leaf stubble in order to bloom and bring their blessed end of winter?

Iris Garden, May 19, 2025

The “joke” is that sometimes it takes an overwhelm to enable a breakthrough. Perhaps such a mess is necessary to push past normal sense-making in order to make way for a crucial insight or inner development, particularly vital for the spiritual pathway. St. John of the Cross says certain transformations cannot come by any human effort. No prayer, no contemplation, not even the ascetic acts of the hyper-religious mystic can do it. Only the power and gift from God.

Yet God always acts in this way—as the soul is able to see—moving, governing, bestowing being, power, graces, and gifts on all creatures, bearing them all in Himself by His power, presence, and substance. And the soul sees what God is in Himself and what He is in his creatures in only one view, just as one who in opening the door of a palace beholds in one act the eminence of the person who dwells inside together with what that sovereign is doing. Therefore what I understand about how God effects this awakening and view given to the soul (which is in Him substantially as is every creature) is that He removes some of the many veils and curtains hanging in front of it so that it might get a glimmer of Him as He is. And then that countenance of His, full of graces, becomes partially and vaguely discernible, for not all the veils are removed. Because all things are moving by His power, what He is doing is evident as well, so He seems to move in them and they in Him with continual movement. Hence it seems to the soul that, in being itself moved and awakened, it was God who moved and awakened. [“The Living Flame of Love” kindle version, p. 117; print version: Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, p. 645  Trans/Ed Kieran Kavanaugh & Otilio Rodriguez]

“Cornflakes” that can never be managed by human effort are obviously not just about the physical debris left after the harvest of field corn. And acknowledging the inadequacy of human effort is not to deny the necessity of it. In other words, to “let go—let God” does not mean a dismissal of the need for prayer-without-ceasing and other acts of devotion.

In addition to being overwhelmed by the literal cornflakes brought by the west wind, an inner message that has been struggling to get through for over twenty years may have gained extra current. It seems the body’s complaint (stooping, raking, hand picking, hauling, grrr…) was needed to conduct the message. This aching body was almost to the point of generating curses that might spark out at the causes of this undeserved heavy burden. 

And perhaps the charge came in that presumption of judgment and vengeance (cf Matt 7:1, “Judge not” and Deut 32:35, “vengeance is mine, saith the Lord” also Matt 5:38, Rom 12:19, Heb 10:30…) that the better angel was roused and prompted to whisper “now, now” or an admonition more harsh, along the lines of “do you think you’ve got it so bad…what about all the hungry children…” Thanks, Mom, I needed that. Seriously though, if suffering is required, cornflakes are a piece of cake. And I found myself substituting gratitude for this light burden, easy yoke, which could have justifiably been more severe.

But, let not escape the elephant: Is suffering required? For there’s the real deal within the cornflake kerfuffle. How does a person deal with the Job issue? Why does an All-Powerful, All-Loving Creator make and allow so much pain and suffering as witnessed in each morning’s news? 

A pretty good sized library is needed to contain the writing on this issue, 

sometimes called “theodicy.”

Studies of the book of Job and other volumes on this topic might approve the summary expression given by David Burrell’s Deconstructing Theodicy in his subtitle: Why Job Has Nothing to Say to the Puzzle of Suffering. Perhaps the best and/or only reaction to this unsolveable problem is found in Silence (with awe). 

Tired enough by raking out and hauling off cornflakes, it became easier to yield to this: “You have to suffer and you aren’t able to know why!” And that surrender may have allowed a next step. Previous attempts to “get” St. John of the Cross hadn’t been very successful, but now the guidance from his works began coming through. St. John says:

It cost God a great deal to bring these souls to this stage [of solitude and tranquility], and He highly values His work of having introduced them into this solitude and emptiness regarding their faculties and activity so that He might speak to their hearts, which is what He always desires. Since it is He who now reigns in the soul with an abundance of peace and calm, He takes the initiative himself by making the natural acts of the faculties fail, by which the soul laboring the whole night accomplished nothing [Lk. 5:5]; and He feeds the spirit without the activity of the senses because neither the sense nor its function is capable of spirit. 

The extent to which God values this tranquility and sleep, or annihilation of sense, is clear in the entreaty, so notable and efficacious, that He made in the Song of Songs: I adjure you, daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the harts of the fields, that you stir not up nor awaken my beloved until she please [Sg. 3:5]. He hereby indicates how much He loves solitary sleep and forgetfulness, for He compares it to these animals that are so retiring and withdrawn. p. 95 kindle; p. 631, para 54 in Kavanaugh & Rodriguez

Amen. Yes, there is a blessing for humility and a season for stillness, for a maturing, a seasoning, a special kind of purification particularly to take out toxicity of arrogance, entitlement, egotism, and suchlike.

And then, perhaps another season follows. Having gained through humble surrender a sensitivity in accepting that the human mind is not sufficient, a purpose takes form in relation to moving further into an increased sense and/or feeling of the divine presence. How is God being revealed each moment? In this particular case, when tending gardens where the Beauty of Nature usually comes, why might our labor be frustrated, even destroyed, by cornflakes? Could this relate to a preparation to receive a special gift, that involving a God-given transformation in the capacity to hold the overwhelming problem of suffering: 

Stanza 2 of The Living Flame of Love

O sweet cautery,

O delightful wound!

O gentle hand! O delicate touch

That tastes of eternal life

And pays every debt!

In killing You changed death to life.

St. John seems to be saying that pain is the price of the path. That’s an overly simplistic reduction of his teaching, but it suggests the inarticulate grasping that hours and days of dealing with cornflake extraction might approximate a gentle and loving application of the cautery requirement. St. John comments on these lines: 

The reason these trials are necessary in order to reach this state is that this highest union cannot be wrought in a soul that is not fortified by trials and temptations, and purified by tribulations, darknesses, and distress, just as a superior quality liqueur is poured only into a sturdy flask that is prepared and purified. By these trials the sensory part of the soul is purified and strengthened, and the spiritual part is refined, purged, and disposed. Since unpurified souls must undergo the sufferings of fire in the next life to attain union with God in glory, so in this life they must undergo the fire of these sufferings to reach the union of perfection. This fire acts on some more vigorously than on others, and on some for a longer time than on others, according to the degree of union to which God wishes to raise them, and according to what they must be purged in them.

 Through these trials in which God places the spirit and the senses, the soul in bitterness acquires virtues, strength, and perfection, for virtue is made perfect in weakness [2 Cor. 12:9] and refined through the endurance of suffering. Iron cannot serve for the artificer's plan, or be adapted to it without fire and the hammer; as Jeremiah says of the fire that gave him knowledge: You have sent fire into my bones and have instructed me [Lam. 1:13]. And Jeremiah also says of the hammer: You have chastised me, Lord, and I was instructed [Jer. 31:18]. Hence Ecclesiasticus says: What can anyone know who is not tried? And the one that has no experience knows little [Ecclus. 34:9-10]. 

And here it ought to be pointed out why so few reach this high state of perfect union with God. It should be known that the reason is not that God wishes only a few of these spirits to be so elevated; he would rather want all to be perfect, but he finds few vessels that will endure so lofty and sublime a work.

p.51 kindle; p. 604 in Kavanaugh & Rodriguez

Shifting a worldview may be like moving a sand dune, grain by grain. Like decomposing “entitlement” or “power-over” or “THE truth” so that the God-given may take form. 

This experience with cornflakes should obviously be taken as highly individual and not preached as literally or metaphorically applied to anyone else. St. John has strong words to say for anyone who presumes to impose prescriptions:

Thus the whole concern of directors should not be to accommodate souls to their own method and condition, but they should observe the road along which God is leading one; if they do not recognize it, they should leave the soul alone and not bother it. And in harmony with the path and spirit along which God leads a soul, the spiritual director should strive to conduct it into greater solitude, tranquility, and freedom of spirit. He should give it latitude so that when God introduces it into this solitude it does not bind its corporeal or spiritual faculties to some particular object, interior or exterior, and does not become anxious or afflicted with the thought that nothing is being done. Even though the soul is not then doing anything, God is doing something in it. Kindle p. 88 ; p 627; para 46 Kavanaugh & Rodriguez

Homeward, Nov 19, 2025

Harmonizing with Resonance

Energy in autumn leaves, Nov 8, 2025

Sound and light are forms of energy, vibrations, frequencies, bridging for those ready to hear and see the expanse and interiority of space and time, infinity and eternity. One of my very favorite themes, resonance, is wonderfully amplified by Frank Wilczek, winner of Nobel Prize in Physics. From his chapter “Quantum Beauty 1: Music of the Spheres” in A Beautiful Question: Finding Nature’s Deep Design:

Each natural vibration pattern takes place at its own natural frequency.  The natural frequency is also called a resonant frequency, for the following reason. If the frequency of your driving force is close to the natural frequency of some pattern, that pattern will leap out in powerful response. For then, and only then, does the external driving force match up with the internal forces, cycle after cycle, to build up the strength of the motion. (pp. 173-4)

Color in woodlands, Nov 8, 2025

 

Wilczek calls James Clerk Maxwell “the first truly modern physicist” (p. 7) and quotes from Maxwell’s private journal:

Happy is the man who can recognize in the work of to-day a connected portion of the work of life and an embodiment of the work of Eternity. The foundations of his confidence are unchangeable, for he has been made a partaker of Infinity. He strenuously works out his daily enterprises because the present is given him for a possession.

Thus ought man to be an impersonation of the divine process of nature, and to show forth the union of the infinite with the finite, not slighting his temporal existence, remembering that in it only is individual action possible, nor yet shutting out from his view that which is eternal, knowing that Time is a mystery which man cannot endure to contemplate until eternal Truth enlighten it. (from p. 164 in Wilczek’s A Beautiful Question: Finding Nature’s Deep Design) 

Morning light, Nov 8, 2025

Thinning Veils

November 1. Dawning

These days almost refuse to go unseen. The pink gold of dawning light penetrates through where just-fallen leaves so recently shaded, through where clouds covered seconds before, revealing how the color spectrum’s right now breaking open…all this almost as with a Halloween spell and/or with the holy demand that must not be denied. See! Look through the worlds. Know like a prayer that crosses the materialistic blinders and receives admission into the eternals of truth, beauty, love…

November 1 pathway of early light

So many of my favorite writers are sharing this time of light breaking through. From Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations:

What some call “liminal space” or threshold space (in Latin, limen means a threshold) is a very good phrase for those special times, events, and places that open us up to the sacred. It seems we need special (sacred) days to open us up to all days being special and sacred. This has always been the case and didn’t originate with Christianity. Ancient initiation rites were intensely sacred time and space that sent the initiate into a newly discovered sacred universe.  What became All Saints Day and All Souls Day (November 1–2) was already called “thin times” by the ancient Celts (as were February 1–2: St. Bridget’s Day and Candlemas Day, when candles were blessed and lit). The veil between this world and the next world was considered most “thin” and easily traversed during these times. On these days, we are invited to be aware of deep time—that is, past, present, and future time gathered into one especially holy moment. 

November 1 Dawn

Of course, for those who learn to see, liminal time is the eternal now, Rumi’s “breeze at dawn,” telling secrets. As suggested in the top photo, my favorite space for contemplating this comes in the woodlands. Krista Tippett links these liminal days with forest time: 

Suzanne [Simard] trained my vision and imagination down to the ground, where features of the natural world that we’re only now taking seriously are stitching the life of the forest and the life of the planet together: mycelia, fungi, mosses. It turns out that a forest is a single organism wired for reciprocity and mutuality. The oldest hub trees — which she calls Mother Trees — are incessantly sensing “who is rich and who is poor, who is healthy and who is sick.” They communicate, send warning signals, and deliver nutrients — you can hear this with a Geiger counter — by way of carbon and nitrogen and phosphorus and water and chemicals and hormones. One of Suzanne’s most astonishing findings is that these networks of communication and sustenance closely mirror what we’re now able to see in the neural networks of the human brain.
I’m letting all of this enliven my understanding of what it means to stay grounded and vital and whole in this time. For this too is the generative story of our time: We’re on dazzling, revolutionary territory of seeing the workings of vitality inside the body of the Earth and inside ourselves. 

Today, November 1st, “The Morning” (shared from The New York Times) features Melissa Kirsch on “Quality Time” reminding us that we’re only one more twilight from the end of Daylight Savings Time:

The hour between dog and wolf, or “l’heure entre chien et loup,” if you prefer, is, I think you’ll agree, the dreamiest way to refer to twilight. (I will entertain arguments for “the gloaming” and “the violet hour,” but I don’t suspect litigants will get very far.) It’s that time just after sunset when the atmosphere is still partly illuminated by the sun, when the light is ambiguous and the sky can’t choose between blue and black. Night hasn’t yet fully fallen and we are in the borderland between day and dark. One might be forgiven, in this threshold moment, for mistaking a dog for a wolf, for mistaking safety for danger, for feeling slightly off.
Daylight saving time ends tomorrow. That first Sunday in November is a full day suspended between dog and wolf. We’re still grasping at the corn-silk tendrils of summer just as winter gets more insistent. 

October 31 sunset across the cornfield

Beauty, Symmetry, Truth

Dawn today

 Closing the back cover of wonderful books opens a delicious sigh: what next… Mark Taylor’s Picture in Question (see previous blog) gives a clue near his conclusion:

“Tansey finds in complexity theory a way to understand the intricate diversity of the networks within which we are forever caught. Different systems structured in different ways act and interact differently to produce the inescapable timely rhythms of life. The sites of these interactions are something like interfaces, which mark transitions between different phases of life. Life is neither totally ordered nor completely chaotic but is always lived at the edge of chaos. In figuring complexity, Tansey figures what can never be completely figured and thus must forever be refigured.”  p. 127, Mark C. Taylor, The Picture in Question: Mark Tansey and the Ends of Representation.

Hmmm…consider chaos/complexity theory. A second book I’d been reading alongside Picture in Question which I also just completed (as if a good read is ever done with) is Julian Hartt’s Theological Method and Imagination. His final chapter, “Story as the Art of Historical Truth,” also suggest direction:

“This does not mean that everything believed—and hated/cherished—to have happened actually happened. Indeed we learn over and over again how memory and story have warped the facts. But the corrections which matter most, in respect to history, are not corrections in fact-determinations. Leave those to the mole historians. In respect to historicality the decisive corrections are all personal, perceptual, dispositional. Can one come to accept the story? Can one come to see that it is one’s own story, that one’s own reality is contained in it? Can one come to see that one’s reality is not a product, a mechanical toss-off, of the past? Can one come to see that one is an actor in the story? For rightly to tell it is to reenact it passionally.” p 245, Theological Method and Imagination, Julian N. Hartt

Dawn today 2

With such guidance in mind and after considering the array of volumes around my desks, the winner is: Frank Wilczek, A Beautiful Question: Finding Nature’s Deep Design. Wilczek won the Nobel Prize in Physics in 2004 and has an earlier book Longing for the Harmonies. Opening pages are very promising:

“The new concept of reality…is that the primary ingredients of physical reality are not point-like particles, but rather space-filling fields. The new method is inspired guesswork. [emphasis in original]…

But what is the physicist’s ‘inspired guesswork’ inspired? Logical consistency is necessary, but hardly sufficient. Rather it was beauty and symmetry that guided Maxwell and his followers—that is, all modern physicists—closer to truth… [Maxwell’s] work, by clarifying the limits of perception, allows us to transcend those limits [of sensory experience]. For the ultimate sense-enhancing device is a searching mind.”  p. 7, Frank Wilczek, A Beautiful Question: Finding Nature’s Deep Design

Dawn today...

 

Framing Presence and Absence

October 18, Good Morning

Midway in Mark C. Taylor’s The Picture in Question: Mark Tansey & the Ends of Representation, the dialectical wonder around presence and absence lightens shadows and complicates the clear. Might we draw closer to God, the Great Unknowable, as these phenomena happen? Again, the ever-present longing: Love, beauty, freedom, justice, truth. Perhaps we only have dissolving frames, another way of imaging. Taylor explores the artistic erasure of the picture: Is God more present in the admission of absence?

Before I press the shutter, I’m less moved to erase frames. To wonder and wander into depths of “reality,” perhaps the telephone pole belongs (possible reminder of a cross), the bumper of my 15-year-old car belongs in the edging of today’s glorious sunrise, including the glass and screen in the window allows the reflection of my partner in the pre-dawn display of autumn leaves. 

We’ve contemplated long on the life task of containing opposites. The yes and no. Life and death. Light and dark. Presence and absence.

God forbids making images, idols… Yet we’re said to be made in God’s image…and advised to know oneself is to know one’s Lord. There might also be comfort in considering God’s anger at idol-makers and in dealing with our feelings concerning the violence and craziness in living today…

“ A jealous God authorizes no delegates and sanctions neither representatives nor representations. ‘The uniqueness and unicity of God,’ as Peggy Kamuf observes, ‘must forever prevent His appearance through any kind of substitute, any doubling of the eternal One and the Same. God, who is unique and uniquely the one who is, cannot tolerate a double, a replacement, a representative.’ Always beyond reason as well as the imagination, the jealous God cannot be figured.” [p. 71 in Taylor; quoting Kamuf from A Derrida Reader, xxiii.]

Thus humbled and leaning thru sight and blindness…

Picture-taking & the Ecstatic

    Winnowing reflections on this first day of September, wondering what’s wanting to be drawn from the seine, like the folks fishing watch as water flows from their nets…Why not stand beside them, wondering if Jesus has spoken? And the term “Ekstasis” flits up in the mind with an uncertain recollection of where I was reading about it.  The book was probably giving the root of the term “ecstasy,” thus suggesting it has to do with positioned beside or outside oneself.  I’m not finding the place where I was reading but it probably came from one of these:

     Anyway, the point is that this magnetic attraction toward the ecstatic inclines us, sometimes with a more emphatic shove, toward realizing the divine alongside the everyday. Perhaps some of us need it, certainly I want the push toward increased awareness. How easy and how unfortunate it is to miss the sacred as it disappears due to unholy distraction. How often the visitation gone. The missing not even noticed.

     The picture shown above came through the default editing of the camera shutter this way:

Re-editing the image

happens partly because I walk outside most morning, predawn, and imagine how the darkish horizon might be imagined if I just attend further into the shadows, 

venturing through the invitation of foggy places, hoping with the early sunlight that bends over while mostly unseen, as if asking one to see through the veils. How might we move closer to the Presence? 

Messages from the mystics often feature “attending,” “interpretation,” entering the dark and/or silence. To stand beside, to experience the ecstatic, especially in the more subtle vibrations, might require “slow art.” The opportunity is to extend looking, to intensify attention, to open imagination, to go further than the default experience given by “normal” “default” time and space.

The framing and focus on my horizon has been re-set-ing through readings as well as in picture-taking and editing. Arden Reed in Slow Art (pp 120-121) quotes historian Jonathan Crary (Suspensions of Perception) who quotes William James (Principles of Psychology): 

In fact, Crary argues, attention and distraction came to define the modern self. For the psychologist William James (1842-1910) experience itself was not given but formed through acts of attention. He explained in painterly language: ‘Millions of items of the outward order are present to my senses in ways which never properly enter into my experience. Why? Because they have no interest for me. My experience is what I agree to attend to … Interest alone gives accent and emphasis, light and shade, background and foreground…Without it…consciousness…would be a gray chaotic indiscriminateness, impossible for us even to conceive.’

For more of this excerpt from William James, Chapter XI, The Principles of Psychology, 1890, please see: https://psychclassics.yorku.ca/James/Principles/prin11.htm 

      From the closing pages of Beauty in Photography, Robert Adams asserts: “Nature photographers particularly need to widen their subject matter if they are to help us find again the affection for life that is the only sure motive for continuing the struggle toward a decent environment” (p. 103). I’m also being moved by reading Denise Levertov. 

      In addition to picture-taking and editing, my response led to this draft:

The point obscure.

   Like ecstasy, likely obsessive. 

Direction? Where the center,

   illumination? 

Maybe the draw

   not to beauty nor truth. 

Separate no one

   from the ninety nine. 

Just attend with a sixth 

   or further 

sense toward the unknown,

   the Unknowable. 

Focus for the whispered 

   hint, the inaudible 

“Good enough”—