tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91295510661651153302024-03-14T04:33:41.038-04:00Doc Horse Taleson the interplay of
word, image, & social justiceDocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.comBlogger274125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-32894494898855738392024-03-09T11:39:00.000-05:002024-03-09T11:39:32.238-05:00 On Chill Rain, Cutting, and Moving Inside<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPqODTGUFK27fq18iYIXfqb1AMrJSa9zLrShw3m3olGf2eN-OxGu8kH0qtx-ANUi7wbdNA6gSIQd11UETfTMgiOPEp4TGSxIlgxNOAcB8cI8wEdLj5EaRmfIbBMnMgi8wXdgC5x9b-5zKUv8lAhucZ6aZ9nys6lJ86gkHmVHzgydF5WBxUu0W860xu2uad" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="921" data-original-width="1371" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhPqODTGUFK27fq18iYIXfqb1AMrJSa9zLrShw3m3olGf2eN-OxGu8kH0qtx-ANUi7wbdNA6gSIQd11UETfTMgiOPEp4TGSxIlgxNOAcB8cI8wEdLj5EaRmfIbBMnMgi8wXdgC5x9b-5zKUv8lAhucZ6aZ9nys6lJ86gkHmVHzgydF5WBxUu0W860xu2uad=w640-h430" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">We celebrate, of course, the spring rains, especially when softly falling, slight breeze. We share into a deepened sort of joy, the kind taken down to sense life force even alike the newly opened daffodils bowing, bent into the crossed, lifeless stalks. Also, while reluctant to cut, some cheer comes through the movement inside.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhplVS7nxgjhGm7CuDm45S0oHOGKPiGpkzEuf7kD2QGpUikSeW5E2onwfCxdamayv5Awfg1CdMQFsHeg8Vb9nwO5I_ODQ1NM7zjqddd3ZxPlqzhYyzLELk9zH8XamMn6DRHxTn4FRChTWiswIj310BeJHev19__QIOEqaNmv1GeUEoj461pdzZDPXPw-7sb" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="1314" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhplVS7nxgjhGm7CuDm45S0oHOGKPiGpkzEuf7kD2QGpUikSeW5E2onwfCxdamayv5Awfg1CdMQFsHeg8Vb9nwO5I_ODQ1NM7zjqddd3ZxPlqzhYyzLELk9zH8XamMn6DRHxTn4FRChTWiswIj310BeJHev19__QIOEqaNmv1GeUEoj461pdzZDPXPw-7sb=w640-h448" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">We might note some parallel here with Samuel Terrien’s </span><span class="s1" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; text-decoration-line: underline;"><i>Job: Poet of Existence</i></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">. His introduction cleanly asserts the direction of the book.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“The poet of Job did not attempt to solve the problem of evil nor did he propose a vindication of God’s justice. . . he not only takes his place among all those who suffer, fighting with the incomprehensible forces of evil in the <i>noce oscura</i>, but he also can speak to all sufferers an authentic word of comfort, begetting in them the virtue of serenity over woe. . .</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">And we who read <i>Job</i> may likewise find a gain in the loss of self-sufficiency. ‘As pain that cannot forget,’ wrote Aeschylus, ‘falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our despite, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.’” (p. 21-2).<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKhThSpbrlMVQk6leoyIQ5ZbDdJ7QLHjEfeGY3Ycs02vWdWSLtPpgou0mATDI-H4aYh1bLXP6kaXbMd1w3ceUaoM98jTGO1UlM4EOKJu-E2YMfuT5JFUgzLcogl0pHRcvka454hvaLAWBiVlC858f3Yg08rXLu82L8J3w-Y-LvAvbzQcX5quiULpuIIxH/s6000/_DSC0799.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKhThSpbrlMVQk6leoyIQ5ZbDdJ7QLHjEfeGY3Ycs02vWdWSLtPpgou0mATDI-H4aYh1bLXP6kaXbMd1w3ceUaoM98jTGO1UlM4EOKJu-E2YMfuT5JFUgzLcogl0pHRcvka454hvaLAWBiVlC858f3Yg08rXLu82L8J3w-Y-LvAvbzQcX5quiULpuIIxH/w640-h426/_DSC0799.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Terrien proceeds to take us through the entire text of <i>Job</i>, just enough commentary along with amplifications from scripture as well as contemporary literature, so that the <i>Deus Absconditus</i>, the ineffable, the mystery surpassing human grasp, eases somewhat through the mist, unsurprisingly by the grace of love. Thus, the touch of comfort, the enlightening of peace. The gift of this text can be sampled in a passage taken near the conclusion as Job, after so much talk and rebuttal, finally goes almost mute in response to the Voice proceeding from the whirlwind.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">In the presence of the holy, Job could not speak. ‘To make the relation to God into a feeling is to relativize and psychologize it. True relation is a <i>coincidentia oppositorum</i>, an absolute which gathers up the poles of feeling into itself’ [Terrien, p. 242; quoting Maurice S. Friedman, <i>Martin Buber, The Life of Dialogue</i>].</span></blockquote><p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-62434208897791496402024-02-28T10:34:00.000-05:002024-02-28T10:34:10.701-05:00Presence in “Time-Out-Of-Time”<div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZFsMo3193A6W2IbM3byRh2blb5Wy1Pio9s_uqRTNvIIu8ZVvE_yIv20Jc4ikyccX5att1vPse83RKXe8WWz1cT_f2WMAFuGfED7w0_CnO4UjLUNK4TrGyAsX4hiKkm26WtMOJKioLs2IPzsCcDZ7vNCyYx5rbEMp1WprekQ89Tc99V_hESAW21Je2Te3c/s1420/3b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_a9BlFui9AMXM46ebHtoLqZD0Y9gMszyfMxSCI5zpeJWiVVpu9T_EcP_XhnJ63vblFvgwYGpz_wUde3ulGaJdwFGvZD-1eAmmOHUtxtUoOKaF9VPMSMlmqjBonP-62yHXvO8HHpYubizyxFbmqIQIbeRGgYLGVFEjMAArtyPJwZTxMvVd03UjJfn1Vpy9/s1600/1%20wondering.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="968" data-original-width="1600" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_a9BlFui9AMXM46ebHtoLqZD0Y9gMszyfMxSCI5zpeJWiVVpu9T_EcP_XhnJ63vblFvgwYGpz_wUde3ulGaJdwFGvZD-1eAmmOHUtxtUoOKaF9VPMSMlmqjBonP-62yHXvO8HHpYubizyxFbmqIQIbeRGgYLGVFEjMAArtyPJwZTxMvVd03UjJfn1Vpy9/w640-h388/1%20wondering.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Wondering, ah, well, to be more honest, I’m grumbling about recent fiction and the too-prevalent topsy-turvy trend. Authors seem to feel it necessary to skip around among narrators. Equally, if not more troubling, is the jump-around time. Too often I have to waste time scrutinizing the top of each new chapter checking for time indicators. Authors show no compunction about jumping forward or back twenty or a hundred years. In short, a reader can no longer trust today’s composer to keep time, place, or point of view! Writers flagrantly violate the norm of beginning-middle-end. Why won’t they start at the beginning and continue steadily to the end? Like life.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br /></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_P8Yjiki1b1pMKu4CozweDoRMxrMge0LvvfJF0zr3UOrr-bUEmNnL9fuz2ZgmCwD2AwUjNRJFoFaHVGw6EcwfkuFHVvD_mHvK_MVi0ZBfxEjZ2LAkMbFyIru_UfGCjhcD0dtMtf8k4bX376SGkaSgbRqf66aPYcpeKtmP68ozfvtdPg7LzWSkISx8vUXX/s1266/%20today.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="916" data-original-width="1266" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_P8Yjiki1b1pMKu4CozweDoRMxrMge0LvvfJF0zr3UOrr-bUEmNnL9fuz2ZgmCwD2AwUjNRJFoFaHVGw6EcwfkuFHVvD_mHvK_MVi0ZBfxEjZ2LAkMbFyIru_UfGCjhcD0dtMtf8k4bX376SGkaSgbRqf66aPYcpeKtmP68ozfvtdPg7LzWSkISx8vUXX/w640-h464/%20today.png" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Or maybe that’s not life. And the fiction was/is that it ever has been.</span><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span></div></span></span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKIGNXviv7n3pLVmLcFMVIYi8bofrFikK-fWZQtChCj4pxuGJwoxV4d4rcN0qufhAm3Flp3VqL9k2Iwk8pUWlxKwGX4g3Maz2Sww3V2OnslzGYZ_oo9W2x8_-7V_MTwYvchoNnQMfaa84kagElj1zPr2-f-66ijXGPLsqd0rZWs65mzff7pi8XR6wjF8Z/s1593/3a.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1593" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsKIGNXviv7n3pLVmLcFMVIYi8bofrFikK-fWZQtChCj4pxuGJwoxV4d4rcN0qufhAm3Flp3VqL9k2Iwk8pUWlxKwGX4g3Maz2Sww3V2OnslzGYZ_oo9W2x8_-7V_MTwYvchoNnQMfaa84kagElj1zPr2-f-66ijXGPLsqd0rZWs65mzff7pi8XR6wjF8Z/w400-h243/3a.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZFsMo3193A6W2IbM3byRh2blb5Wy1Pio9s_uqRTNvIIu8ZVvE_yIv20Jc4ikyccX5att1vPse83RKXe8WWz1cT_f2WMAFuGfED7w0_CnO4UjLUNK4TrGyAsX4hiKkm26WtMOJKioLs2IPzsCcDZ7vNCyYx5rbEMp1WprekQ89Tc99V_hESAW21Je2Te3c/s1420/3b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="895" data-original-width="1420" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZFsMo3193A6W2IbM3byRh2blb5Wy1Pio9s_uqRTNvIIu8ZVvE_yIv20Jc4ikyccX5att1vPse83RKXe8WWz1cT_f2WMAFuGfED7w0_CnO4UjLUNK4TrGyAsX4hiKkm26WtMOJKioLs2IPzsCcDZ7vNCyYx5rbEMp1WprekQ89Tc99V_hESAW21Je2Te3c/w400-h253/3b.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Consider the experience of almost any hour: often it includes wanderings of mind/heart/soul, maybe even the body. Perhaps the development of consciousness progressively and selectively includes increased awareness and capacity for getting out of “now” (and without losing the invaluable ability to choose to “be here now”).</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Maybe there’s significant value in those impertinent remembrances and wily imaginations that just take off into reconstructed pasts. Even the ones that don’t go back cleanly but instead overlap into fanciful possibilities play important roles. The authentic path-maker, even pursuing the traditional ways, continually prays for revelation on “Whose woods these are?”</span></span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwr1NXogGzQfDejB5wZE4GPXWShLD_3eqJr7Gzm8aPEFr5GtHtfFnRYR8Gjk6pWtEEFshHYFuEzMpWgChYRTC5puoDj8XMhFaJ06U9lxvENMxzotzmXbI68Hj5Ar4ABT9PtRYiEqYb_N1mrTyTpgdbyEA_en94i40NAbvpG0X-eKuIVSK7WRAkGQutKaKm/s1505/4a.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="1505" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwr1NXogGzQfDejB5wZE4GPXWShLD_3eqJr7Gzm8aPEFr5GtHtfFnRYR8Gjk6pWtEEFshHYFuEzMpWgChYRTC5puoDj8XMhFaJ06U9lxvENMxzotzmXbI68Hj5Ar4ABT9PtRYiEqYb_N1mrTyTpgdbyEA_en94i40NAbvpG0X-eKuIVSK7WRAkGQutKaKm/w400-h260/4a.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3aBk-jyQTx2FiGtmqSfweb2reFXM1ddIFa1qfvqz8YhzOMHAbab2WnssPINxBagSaVResXKwZSr0GpL6uHxSRprRY6-cI4zDYbgoR-QnqQWHlbnvpFMN0DwaYN4dsSdzieOi0-P_OzVxQhnw_2bbli2oyLRy27nLE72Nq2-VgSw2AzsLR9ZXuosDTmL-8/s1594/4b.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="1594" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3aBk-jyQTx2FiGtmqSfweb2reFXM1ddIFa1qfvqz8YhzOMHAbab2WnssPINxBagSaVResXKwZSr0GpL6uHxSRprRY6-cI4zDYbgoR-QnqQWHlbnvpFMN0DwaYN4dsSdzieOi0-P_OzVxQhnw_2bbli2oyLRy27nLE72Nq2-VgSw2AzsLR9ZXuosDTmL-8/w400-h248/4b.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbMiJ5lsJIGF0qiPng0CfQtOvmQe4fWz3hwhVqdWb_3aEOLqCRwOCTbNBT5W7nYZHcVKsBqz5r5OUsDWYAyc1wLEaMAm1FQpq6poviRm10ykqF_deDvyJciap9YlTdTpiKK_bHbdzSDqB0r_CcvHgLlNLJ04LC3N_hQp9skPXxO3yDMGFlLriDBmfQmfx/s1575/4c.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="986" data-original-width="1575" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbMiJ5lsJIGF0qiPng0CfQtOvmQe4fWz3hwhVqdWb_3aEOLqCRwOCTbNBT5W7nYZHcVKsBqz5r5OUsDWYAyc1wLEaMAm1FQpq6poviRm10ykqF_deDvyJciap9YlTdTpiKK_bHbdzSDqB0r_CcvHgLlNLJ04LC3N_hQp9skPXxO3yDMGFlLriDBmfQmfx/w400-h250/4c.png" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Maybe old boundaries need to be muddied by this quagmire wonderland of “What If…” Eric Auerbach articulates this phenomenon with the term “figura.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><blockquote>“… the notion of the new manifestation, the changing aspect, of the permanent runs through the whole history of the word [<i>figura</i>]” (p. 12, “Figura,” in <i>Scenes from the Drama of European Literature).</i></blockquote></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Being present to “now” has the paradoxical capacity to participate both from the prophetic past as well as to reverberate even into future, all this in deepening meaning to the self: inheritance and destiny.<br /></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><blockquote>Figural interpretation establishes a connection between two events or persons in such a way that the first signifies not only itself but also the second, while the second involves of fulfills the first. The two poles of a figure are separated in time, but both, being real events or persons, are within temporality. They are both contained in the flowing stream which is historical life, and only the comprehension, the <i>intellectus spiritualis</i>, of their interdependence is a spiritual act. In practice we almost always find an interpretation of the Old Testament, whose episodes are interpreted as figures or phenomenal prophecies of the events of the New Testament. Auerbach, <i>Mimesis</i>, p. 73</blockquote></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Reality” thus composes of a hodge-podge blurring past/present/future, perhaps making life more bizarre than fiction. And, therefore, negotiating this almost crazy-making holds the key to charting the authentic pathway. Letting go of standard time seems to be closer to the guidance from the Source than the steady mind-marked realism with its predictable increments.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Special care is needed lest the animating force of wondering disintegrate into aimless wandering. Attention needs to be devoted to evolving consciousness. Engagement with creative art involving evolutionary change offers continuing revelation. This work finds articulation in constructs such as Auerbach’s <i>figura</i> and Jung’s archetype.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The God-given life force, both through continuing guidance and in renewed energy, comes in such dynamics that break through the tendency to get stuck in prescriptive literalisms and to flow with the reassuring testimony of ancestors. Let’s look closely into the subtle shifts in seasonal change, into the nuance of character development in our children as well as in the opportunities of aging, including anticipation of death.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiuR1CQZEm6ca7JGzBE25uuALTujZhbZD0kR40ASHBnMb5AFAoZRlYE9L6U_oAPy7O79h6p7xQNymnQQEid6C1Fm738L819FBoDM9SUbRVf0Uqr8SD7W4yFc1me0nZgU1slRu9sTKwRQykyKUM-zER17RG0HCuO-m_5dEzR7RcNrKxdj8VdVkHR23TIMz/s1194/5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1194" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiuR1CQZEm6ca7JGzBE25uuALTujZhbZD0kR40ASHBnMb5AFAoZRlYE9L6U_oAPy7O79h6p7xQNymnQQEid6C1Fm738L819FBoDM9SUbRVf0Uqr8SD7W4yFc1me0nZgU1slRu9sTKwRQykyKUM-zER17RG0HCuO-m_5dEzR7RcNrKxdj8VdVkHR23TIMz/w640-h478/5.png" width="640" /></a><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Help in negotiating time out of time has come recently in reading Amos Wilder. In <i>Jesus’ Parables and the War of Myths,</i> Wilder talks about the radical shift: hero as lion or lamb, suffering as good or bad signal, loss as victory. The need for continuing care for the individual’s self understanding as well as for religious crises regarding changing social issues requires “a new creation” that fulfills the old and that can only find “adequate expression in a transcendental mythical statement. Yet such vision, though by its nature it dissolved ordinary relations of time, space, and causation, was nevertheless rooted in historical realities and could therefore later be translated and applied to ongoing circumstances” (Wilder, <i>Jesus’ Parables and the War of Myths, </i>pp. 151-152). Over a long period of time, good literature imitated this mythology. But then Jesus upset the prescriptions; and, consequently, interpretations and writers (and persons searching for an authentic pathway) found themselves in this “war of myths.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><blockquote>It is through images that all such orientation of the believer in an enigmatic world is conveyed. The world-understanding in question involves, of course, the heart as well as the knowing faculties… The new myth-making powers of the Christian movement meant more than an overthrow of rival myths and more than a liberation from letter and from law. It meant the portrayal of the real nature of things and of the course of existence as far as human speech could encompass such mysteries. Comparing lesser things with greater, we appropriate the myth and symbol of the New Testament by opening ourselves to its wisdom in the same order of response with which we encounter art or read poetry. Though this order of knowing is closer to that of ancient spell or visionary realization, or the world-making of the child, yet it is, for this very reason, a total and immediate kind of knowing and one that involves us totally. Wilder, <i>Jesus’ Parables and the War of Myths, </i>p. 127</blockquote></span></span></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDo4GAFHr04XBZxAImgteXJUYUWeUvN-7a9aw4agiKWsQHomfPmPZJdAm-JFg5Y18TjGKt4o4A8EHNI2RZ7Nmdq8BjN0YizV_ijprhLXfIBpX5C6I7z2wlXycDNIq15xwwgljJAP5oLiiszuWE1dCAImNgmC0Daz-vB1lgdY6Tfaambma1kcc1hZbfTo9/s1239/photo%206.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="1239" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDo4GAFHr04XBZxAImgteXJUYUWeUvN-7a9aw4agiKWsQHomfPmPZJdAm-JFg5Y18TjGKt4o4A8EHNI2RZ7Nmdq8BjN0YizV_ijprhLXfIBpX5C6I7z2wlXycDNIq15xwwgljJAP5oLiiszuWE1dCAImNgmC0Daz-vB1lgdY6Tfaambma1kcc1hZbfTo9/w640-h478/photo%206.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p></div>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-89277206691896171152023-12-03T09:49:00.000-05:002023-12-03T09:49:11.027-05:00Presence Alone and With<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxJXhNXINigxE4lteY2bmWnoqa7ko8diemuaWMLjM_eO7dMdCtAIrIilV8BpLC7PwN2CSfzGM7TDdi3V_81qUD6mgkaMO4RkK-nWUPolgm1dgWsx5f1IwQQ1AyXbfDjoD3m2JKx-zUl6Gg-Hw0cavrwovcki-09TuYic-1AA26gP64dVzRFlYJyYHAmHN/s4656/IMG_20231203_083819.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3492" data-original-width="4656" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxJXhNXINigxE4lteY2bmWnoqa7ko8diemuaWMLjM_eO7dMdCtAIrIilV8BpLC7PwN2CSfzGM7TDdi3V_81qUD6mgkaMO4RkK-nWUPolgm1dgWsx5f1IwQQ1AyXbfDjoD3m2JKx-zUl6Gg-Hw0cavrwovcki-09TuYic-1AA26gP64dVzRFlYJyYHAmHN/w640-h480/IMG_20231203_083819.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">Dreams often transgress into the past as if a forty-year career hasn’t properly ended, even when final grades were done a half-decade ago. A few days ago, the night’s visitation ghosted students who were more concerned with getting points than with understanding. Will we ever learn? </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">The art of teaching inspires the quest into the inarticulate, not the adulation of dead letters. Love glides above, beyond the best of poems. Modeling has a place but truth lives in continual creation.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJApagHohf-3AmTuwgHb0dCqEU6NaW4fPnbDSP5Euk6oZeVXmcorF_cZQmJEFBNl_-3v3-fnkfD-kgbezmtnmTExXMFSgYOGeDGdt9dOuPq5jIu6GWhk0bKMZfJkhQcplLxvt5GBMN9J5D4A5bpibOyf8MLuMx1T5QSfFVkGs8cmDbkv_Y3x7EfcD3cyZ/s6000/_DSC0611.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJApagHohf-3AmTuwgHb0dCqEU6NaW4fPnbDSP5Euk6oZeVXmcorF_cZQmJEFBNl_-3v3-fnkfD-kgbezmtnmTExXMFSgYOGeDGdt9dOuPq5jIu6GWhk0bKMZfJkhQcplLxvt5GBMN9J5D4A5bpibOyf8MLuMx1T5QSfFVkGs8cmDbkv_Y3x7EfcD3cyZ/w640-h426/_DSC0611.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> Education, at essence, invites experience of wonder, nurtures longing for not-knowing, frees the drive further into mystery where the personally unique swirls into Union.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> A trace or savoring of such might be felt as resonance; maybe it’s a subtle tone of love—the sense of entering a harmony, a tension that joys in the fragrance of peace. </span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> In this way, my reading has recently delighted in the terrain of Teilhard de Chardin. For example,</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p></div><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“When he has pursued to the end the vocation contained in all sense-perception—when his eyes have once become accustomed to the Light invisible in which both the periphery of beings and their centre are bathed—then the seer perceives that he is immersed in a <i>universal Milieu</i>, higher than that which contains the restlessness of ordinary, sensibly apprehended, life: a Milieu <i>that knows no change</i>, immune to the surge of superficial vicissitudes—a <i>homogeneous</i> Milieu in which contrasts and differences are toned down. As yet, he can say nothing of this diffuse Reality except that it exists, that it is enveloping and that in a mysterious way it is beatifying. It is enough for him, however, to have glimpsed its serene and luminous folds. Nothing henceforth can shake his determination to move for ever into its embrace and to find his happiness in there becoming ever more lost.” [p. 120, <i>Writings in Time of War</i>]</span></blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnT1-9GsjsibVtA0QgK8zk72sXfIPM9DxcrB9_Fw9Bz40YQTGh0XEmQx1EJQ09fLd_jd6tdEk5vAz9v8OvmOa_0YGcfJNQCGyiAERtk0aBr_ZKvWpmGSz2XiCC2dPD-r7PoHIgITLNoy9u9PhzWjtY5imYIgJwZIWSPNTCoEGABoldL0RiV0AodQbINglq/s6000/_DSC0610%20(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnT1-9GsjsibVtA0QgK8zk72sXfIPM9DxcrB9_Fw9Bz40YQTGh0XEmQx1EJQ09fLd_jd6tdEk5vAz9v8OvmOa_0YGcfJNQCGyiAERtk0aBr_ZKvWpmGSz2XiCC2dPD-r7PoHIgITLNoy9u9PhzWjtY5imYIgJwZIWSPNTCoEGABoldL0RiV0AodQbINglq/w640-h426/_DSC0610%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a> </p></span><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-34325340216954210722023-11-20T17:03:00.001-05:002023-11-20T17:03:37.792-05:00Softer Love, Subtle Tone<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66cd1baJnXyksNS-sfIKFtSGn-M1Q5ikb2aMZm7TbACFezDRwnmGZJtHPJ1orSdh9vdoDndgVk7Da0QReI0zXUpbPyG-Fp8_Z793o3Csc61_KRkMGxvtIJR9CgrXOaip6G4R6qKFQoaXr0pSS5QYXYAA9ClMK5ne7cip0EtXIgZQ2ViEItEEm0QPfLYUa/s6000/_DSC0576%20(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66cd1baJnXyksNS-sfIKFtSGn-M1Q5ikb2aMZm7TbACFezDRwnmGZJtHPJ1orSdh9vdoDndgVk7Da0QReI0zXUpbPyG-Fp8_Z793o3Csc61_KRkMGxvtIJR9CgrXOaip6G4R6qKFQoaXr0pSS5QYXYAA9ClMK5ne7cip0EtXIgZQ2ViEItEEm0QPfLYUa/w640-h426/_DSC0576%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4e0Hl_c5QYCNKhaTGbYHBntGmV7fUqkzPSfrw9YY_5Tp_rZbjPKkvfm7RCJGltQ6T6G_iDRd0VvAjKiK5v4M5PUILv3IXDD_H3E8GdZRoJtbBfSnTJ4yIiM-T83_pjPoNCNI8ZuZI5-89QAQ1rCPzNZuhG9XKWy2KXGyga-ZsWRR_omN7WlFE64uLno2k/s6000/_DSC0564.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4e0Hl_c5QYCNKhaTGbYHBntGmV7fUqkzPSfrw9YY_5Tp_rZbjPKkvfm7RCJGltQ6T6G_iDRd0VvAjKiK5v4M5PUILv3IXDD_H3E8GdZRoJtbBfSnTJ4yIiM-T83_pjPoNCNI8ZuZI5-89QAQ1rCPzNZuhG9XKWy2KXGyga-ZsWRR_omN7WlFE64uLno2k/w400-h266/_DSC0564.jpeg" width="400" /></a><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Graying skies with yellow-browned leaves, many down, allow the softer love of shadows, subtle tonalities, layers above common horizons, slowing, looking long, erasing space and time.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWLmYr_IViq1baJwXJm8uF-89uL4_2bL9LQzPCdo_qMUzqfZkhWtQ6FjwwIVo8JW4yTGsCVkmkS3vtbYSj9aKq79QW4O9Op9m1G2x2cvgFrcDf4OsaMfTFaDfVH9jWaMYaWBglgz_EII-jSh2yHdbkTqI-bmo84c7an0I8mFt3yAKrowC3hlYx0DTtx7gz/s6000/_DSC0563.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWLmYr_IViq1baJwXJm8uF-89uL4_2bL9LQzPCdo_qMUzqfZkhWtQ6FjwwIVo8JW4yTGsCVkmkS3vtbYSj9aKq79QW4O9Op9m1G2x2cvgFrcDf4OsaMfTFaDfVH9jWaMYaWBglgz_EII-jSh2yHdbkTqI-bmo84c7an0I8mFt3yAKrowC3hlYx0DTtx7gz/w640-h426/_DSC0563.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“There is an unbearable and unstoppable energy at the heart of the cosmos that is relentless, despite billions of years of cosmic life. This yearning for wholeness is integral to the unfinished process of evolution because it is an ultimate wholeness that exceeds the human grasp. God<i> is</i> the unbearable wholeness of being, the unrelenting dynamism of love, pushing through the limits of matter to become God at the heart of this evolutionary universe. Divine love evolves the universe as it leans into an unknown future.” Ilia Delio, The Unbearable Wholeness of Being, p. 202.<span style="text-align: center;"> </span></span></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd24M_DOuA2v-QLsqX7oohiNVn9j1m0WlH9gglkruI0jl5A0e8dmcWc9I5yShch7JNXyu1nZv9mS6U0vIIaBbiIVnXmrIwXaXxWy1fOr8wYRy3NMDKQK4BX5YWTbLlrLbpc8fz71cVG5yAj5ljSgJBAm6Z9abIz7XYw58IiIPXbRkKlMcUcQa68IPbA2cS/s6000/_DSC0570%20(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd24M_DOuA2v-QLsqX7oohiNVn9j1m0WlH9gglkruI0jl5A0e8dmcWc9I5yShch7JNXyu1nZv9mS6U0vIIaBbiIVnXmrIwXaXxWy1fOr8wYRy3NMDKQK4BX5YWTbLlrLbpc8fz71cVG5yAj5ljSgJBAm6Z9abIz7XYw58IiIPXbRkKlMcUcQa68IPbA2cS/w640-h426/_DSC0570%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-19460812346905445812023-11-15T11:05:00.000-05:002023-11-15T11:05:12.574-05:00God/Love: Known Mystery<p><span style="color: #741b47;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3492" data-original-width="4656" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLGMkWo6Jf3UwEJ8PRgfds0g4DS-qiHmp33-8hJq85oeks1BEFUB7C3IOOPY3Z4WzSQh5RqvkEA4Jebk6PQYTo6BN7K0ovnMcVUUplaE8kgAQwwO1ehXdcs0uKi26bmuaK-6g-CdDDZBAYZ8J2bvzFt0Ng4uaExaPD9pXaQA3tR0WWowAjQGS5afpYnV-P/w640-h480/IMG_20231115_064020.jpeg" width="640" /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">God has always held as Mystery while Love’s masquerade as sure, known, embraced slips away. Yet change often trues and now the two more converge. Perhaps an evolving consciousness signals as the most reliable marker on the pathway. Reassurance to continue on comes with the edge of knowing and not through the devil-curse of dead-certainty. </span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">“Evolution is not only the universe coming to be but it is <i>God</i> who is <i>coming to be</i> insofar as God arises with the development of consciousness.” [fn p. 72, Delio, Unbearable Wholeness]</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>My current support and guide for this trapeze-trail comes from Ilia Delio’s <i>The Unbearable Wholeness of Being: God, Evolution and the Power of Love</i>. The text distills, interprets, and blends Teilhard de Chardin, Raimon Panikkar, Moltman along with Tillich and<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>others in exploring this inexplicable wonder. For example:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">“God loves the world with the very same love which God <i>is</i>. God is not divine substance governing creation but the radical subject of everything that exists, the depth and wholeness of nature itself that reveals itself in its hiddenness. God’s love fills up each being as ‘this’ (and not ‘that’), but the limits of any being cannot contain God; thus, the excess of God’s love spills over as ‘transcendence,’ more than any being can grasp. Transcendence is the fecundity of love and the ‘yearning’ dimension of everything that exists.” [p. 71]</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRH29NARz_b6DBSax8ENLYysjYMy8tE5klreb3NxzprFnrZqyn_vEWpB8dNXHyuTPvrB8uhgnV5U-ldULvL1CfQRZ3_JRPENkDBmECyCvn5CwBiDh4H4Ibj4OFre5jCXVWH2RX9Ap40_EsSIlpSSKvyxibwiy1qNJaduqcSIOp1c_Yls77gehgVEOr0Jb/s3840/IMG_20231115_080016.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="3840" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRH29NARz_b6DBSax8ENLYysjYMy8tE5klreb3NxzprFnrZqyn_vEWpB8dNXHyuTPvrB8uhgnV5U-ldULvL1CfQRZ3_JRPENkDBmECyCvn5CwBiDh4H4Ibj4OFre5jCXVWH2RX9Ap40_EsSIlpSSKvyxibwiy1qNJaduqcSIOp1c_Yls77gehgVEOr0Jb/w640-h360/IMG_20231115_080016.jpeg" width="640" /></span></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>While quantum physics quakes the foundations of space/time craved by fundamentalism, the shaky feeling found in venturing into sacred ground, like the sense of “participation mystique,” may be eased. The invitation is to know love that knows and loves beyond the hard boundaries of physical touch and sight.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">“The divine mystery is the ultimate <i>AM</i> of everything. God is not the ontologically distinct Being who empowers created beings but the very dimension of created being by which being transcends itself toward greater relationality, wholeness, and depth… God is the unlimited depth of love of all that is, a love that overflows into new life.” (pp. 66-67)</span></blockquote><p></p><p><span style="color: #741b47;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7McROm-X2NJp3S5jnyGYrN_fBJNJ2Qt4apBYjcpjTXp4Nrt8SXyInalMBtEw9zlJhrPqaJR6o-s9b030m_1O72gvmtb172E_G8g-TffM4BqjS_B6W-drak4EVK87IAavYib8LlShqlSlN-cFROhroXlovoPBWrobRRaCqncufhZ-k4B0ruKmTVIIWSJL/s4656/IMG_20231114_071355_659.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3492" data-original-width="4656" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7McROm-X2NJp3S5jnyGYrN_fBJNJ2Qt4apBYjcpjTXp4Nrt8SXyInalMBtEw9zlJhrPqaJR6o-s9b030m_1O72gvmtb172E_G8g-TffM4BqjS_B6W-drak4EVK87IAavYib8LlShqlSlN-cFROhroXlovoPBWrobRRaCqncufhZ-k4B0ruKmTVIIWSJL/w640-h480/IMG_20231114_071355_659.jpeg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /> </span><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-66775007760373001442023-11-11T13:39:00.000-05:002023-11-11T13:39:38.311-05:00A Stream of Transformation<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewKZX7fQAl7yDIs2S2F6k1Tckl5uqu_QfW6xs0v-q7uhev2EoOZPZFmwkOnX-MM3scBjji0o8MVkn0c-8NXt5GDZAPq7xTArM0Evj9pKk5MdwTaKpDi-EoFOUgMJlyGZYjdfNThnZ1K_IEOJ66S3TYyg3rsy3kBrpARCCBchHzRBSCHfoxvY4aLXVIwFA/s1318/517.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="878" data-original-width="1318" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewKZX7fQAl7yDIs2S2F6k1Tckl5uqu_QfW6xs0v-q7uhev2EoOZPZFmwkOnX-MM3scBjji0o8MVkn0c-8NXt5GDZAPq7xTArM0Evj9pKk5MdwTaKpDi-EoFOUgMJlyGZYjdfNThnZ1K_IEOJ66S3TYyg3rsy3kBrpARCCBchHzRBSCHfoxvY4aLXVIwFA/w640-h426/517.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">For days now, even weeks, falling leaves swirl about, and they’re overlaying memories of watching the beautiful maple and oak trees in autumns past. While the leaves were beautiful, my feelings were not so pleasant, bittersweet, at best. So I’ve been anticipating that poignancy…yet it’s not rising up. This season stirs differently; instead of tinged with sadness, the flow seems to move into a stream of transformation. More like feeling into the unknown…not necessarily unpleasant. Leaves lightly dance—as if death is not to dread, as if the mystery beyond has not ending at heart, but a penetrating continuity.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW7AKLPRPIq6sKA4LDOSeyiQwKoLKfd2H0N2Wd7MinoR7utOENErJFAz7tmObrXjQ62y7_2DZKntIHWCe8URI2-gNApKy0nkN1JIbBkLvMRsrZtd6w2AyJXVW4fztDIW2HBiwjZBHjyXd-FGl-MBy3QMwXlqakUzDJ-iXLUDYS7HkXIL1BGe9HRMdsT-o/s1315/472.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="1315" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW7AKLPRPIq6sKA4LDOSeyiQwKoLKfd2H0N2Wd7MinoR7utOENErJFAz7tmObrXjQ62y7_2DZKntIHWCe8URI2-gNApKy0nkN1JIbBkLvMRsrZtd6w2AyJXVW4fztDIW2HBiwjZBHjyXd-FGl-MBy3QMwXlqakUzDJ-iXLUDYS7HkXIL1BGe9HRMdsT-o/w640-h430/472.png" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Perhaps the different view owes partly to recent readings: <i>Towards Mystical Union</i> by Julienne McLean, <i>Spiritual Pilgrims</i> by John Welch, and <i>Androgyny</i> by June Singer. Important material has been drawn especially from The Interior Castle of Saint Teresa of Avila, also from the work of C.G. Jung, particularly his “Stages of Life” (from CW8, pp. 387-403). Old age allows a changing experience with falling leaves, but it doesn’t force it. </span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhMjT1OzRGdV8zIXRtFcTg5eHCHwiLZQ1irTZS2l3zvbNqlfOLUhYCadfHHxGxEGCpSyvCVimQPKyyhi_X0j0kcusWGZ1-4WH4uxPQQPcT0d_Su_LeMSX9c55pihTvd4o1CkWeg20UIiK1lTf55WsBpiIiM71cOEDaQ2AlrxonDY5GEXw6xYUECdkw1-s/s1341/512.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1341" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhMjT1OzRGdV8zIXRtFcTg5eHCHwiLZQ1irTZS2l3zvbNqlfOLUhYCadfHHxGxEGCpSyvCVimQPKyyhi_X0j0kcusWGZ1-4WH4uxPQQPcT0d_Su_LeMSX9c55pihTvd4o1CkWeg20UIiK1lTf55WsBpiIiM71cOEDaQ2AlrxonDY5GEXw6xYUECdkw1-s/w640-h426/512.png" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span><br /></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span> </span>What do we make of dying and the possibility of what follows? Jung advises us “to discover in death a goal towards which one can strive, and that shrinking away from it is something unhealthy and abnormal which robs the second half of life of its purpose. . . it would therefore be desirable to think of death as only a transition, as part of a life process whose extent and duration are beyond our knowledge” [p. 402; para 792].</span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_X3W5idOgsZ9CtUY3sMOiw6t_zq5VJb_aBjAJ1NBhGqUwpIsAspCS9UhBGXpytTH7bJfI2aQQrZ5LiPDGhEs9OHakNUYFdmFyTxAyMmJQTDamEKlz6m1Vs05l5sjga8MxnTbKYVpbMfP64h5oS33h11QX-pvl8P2okL9kIaCi6Xm1Odm7KrGnL5ziHCV/s1344/486.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="886" data-original-width="1344" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_X3W5idOgsZ9CtUY3sMOiw6t_zq5VJb_aBjAJ1NBhGqUwpIsAspCS9UhBGXpytTH7bJfI2aQQrZ5LiPDGhEs9OHakNUYFdmFyTxAyMmJQTDamEKlz6m1Vs05l5sjga8MxnTbKYVpbMfP64h5oS33h11QX-pvl8P2okL9kIaCi6Xm1Odm7KrGnL5ziHCV/w640-h422/486.png" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Some friend posted a helpful excerpt from John O’Donohue:</span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">"The dead are not distant or absent. They are alongside us. When we lose someone to death, we lose their physical image and presence, they slip out of visible form into invisible presence. This alteration of form is the reason we cannot see the dead. But because we cannot see them does not mean that they are not there. Transfigured into eternal form, the dead cannot reverse the journey and even for one second re-enter their old form to linger with us a while. Though they cannot reappear, they continue to be near us and part of the healing of grief is the refinement of our hearts whereby we come to sense their loving nearness. When we ourselves enter the eternal world and come to see our lives on earth in full view, we may be surprised at the immense assistance and support with which our departed loved ones have accompanied every moment of our lives. In their new, transfigured presence their compassion, understanding and love take on a divine depth, enabling them to become secret angels guiding and sheltering the unfolding of our destiny.” [from Beauty: The Invisible Embrace] </span></blockquote><p> </p><p></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_d8E82jDtBJPud6q423wb_KY0MQi4PobogSIFAJ-LgCLS1anjTuU3pNQDRMei7kABgCx2l8bfcyGEpeeC415imiZzf_9VJSLinTGg3f5hjkHaDooldAiiPm5w3MBgZwh3LBJUi6m9F8JVWIMEsukJTOhKcOwj1NJvXIVmUXopW04dEB94qT3w7krs29P/s1322/497.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="887" data-original-width="1322" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu_d8E82jDtBJPud6q423wb_KY0MQi4PobogSIFAJ-LgCLS1anjTuU3pNQDRMei7kABgCx2l8bfcyGEpeeC415imiZzf_9VJSLinTGg3f5hjkHaDooldAiiPm5w3MBgZwh3LBJUi6m9F8JVWIMEsukJTOhKcOwj1NJvXIVmUXopW04dEB94qT3w7krs29P/w640-h430/497.png" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Another posting came from the work of Anaïs Nin :</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="s2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="s2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">“</span>I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me — the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living. That, I believe, is the reason for every work of art.” (The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5: 1947-1955)</span></blockquote><p> </p><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqymVTVxJRqhY8JXqQSI-czspDyUw6lI1UeqFvYULPn_FtC9YGjK-_ubvw671wYAfO1jt3B76RIzzTAPsBwVcZnsPRVNHRd-EtHq6MlNJXw1X1jDUkTfdgmypUABfE4JsPF_a3t4SmNXRDL-Fvzk36__1jIWqov_U1D8REqRXIhdr9ysRPRwKDdWBNBQq/s1174/232.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="880" data-original-width="1174" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqymVTVxJRqhY8JXqQSI-czspDyUw6lI1UeqFvYULPn_FtC9YGjK-_ubvw671wYAfO1jt3B76RIzzTAPsBwVcZnsPRVNHRd-EtHq6MlNJXw1X1jDUkTfdgmypUABfE4JsPF_a3t4SmNXRDL-Fvzk36__1jIWqov_U1D8REqRXIhdr9ysRPRwKDdWBNBQq/w640-h480/232.png" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Love is, of course, the Way. While it may be an “ever-fixed mark,” love also offers ever deepening. My feeling for these trees, and the presence as well as absence of their leaves. Their presence through the seasons of life deepens. The gift of photography, like Anaïs Nin’s art, follows their falling, like O’Donohue’s love taking on a divine depth, and guides us on beyond our knowledge.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpLIDR6-CfqzLwawShSraDbScMHEzgl9U3KbpREKOcD1S1iE-sgJZqL-ETJFvY1zVaX9j6B5s6brOUNrLfbx_THF0SUp_yr7xWqbJlNqQ4gc8aHQqtShabezll7AfNUak6A-KpXITkBvcjasEfS12d1K6qlAaUtB95oQgLM49DRADuyX7wDN5b0RyVM61/s1207/653.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="914" data-original-width="1207" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpLIDR6-CfqzLwawShSraDbScMHEzgl9U3KbpREKOcD1S1iE-sgJZqL-ETJFvY1zVaX9j6B5s6brOUNrLfbx_THF0SUp_yr7xWqbJlNqQ4gc8aHQqtShabezll7AfNUak6A-KpXITkBvcjasEfS12d1K6qlAaUtB95oQgLM49DRADuyX7wDN5b0RyVM61/w640-h484/653.png" width="640" /></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-71446060993729263972023-10-14T11:49:00.004-04:002023-10-14T11:49:35.063-04:00Love in Falling<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIHeD4u2uyc_oSJUkfmdZ3YCMSMzNfDHITSxbfJBgXPEYWDgP0jucQ9DxsLPb7tF50lcEOyxGcyy5i3Mgu97rE89XIsTi_bOuSJitnqiXCiAyO58rAnqvylpMRlMvXulEpVt6ENh5-vdRy8C0xgnzG3FnVRLxHhXApLPJPmP-D6cu-gEJOutkFlYFvYU0/s4619/IMG_20231014_085826.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="2752" data-original-width="4619" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIHeD4u2uyc_oSJUkfmdZ3YCMSMzNfDHITSxbfJBgXPEYWDgP0jucQ9DxsLPb7tF50lcEOyxGcyy5i3Mgu97rE89XIsTi_bOuSJitnqiXCiAyO58rAnqvylpMRlMvXulEpVt6ENh5-vdRy8C0xgnzG3FnVRLxHhXApLPJPmP-D6cu-gEJOutkFlYFvYU0/w640-h381/IMG_20231014_085826.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #660000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">
A gray, drizzly sort of day, soft falling of yellow-brown leaves; perfect—perhaps—for drifting together tumbleweed thoughts, mellowed reflections, wonderments that’ve been just hanging on, waiting to be gathered together, especially these: </span><div><span style="color: #660000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> the persistent call “die-before-you-die; </span></div><div><span style="color: #660000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> also, the hard discernment between false self and true self;</span></div><div><span style="color: #660000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> and reflections on dreams that wander, searching the way home. </span></div><div><span style="color: #660000; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #660000;"> Life’s journey has sifted through the hourglass of truth: being mesmerized and then unmasking teachers, preachers, prophets… </span><a href="https://cac.org/daily-meditations/remembering-our-hope/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Richard Rohr’s meditation this week</span></a><span style="color: #660000;"> focused on “the prophetic task of integrating our individual and collective memories.”
</span></span></div><div><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-size: 11px;"> </span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></span></p></div><blockquote><div><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">“It takes a prophet of sorts, one who sees clearly, one who has traveled the highway before, one who remembers everything, to guide us beyond our blocked, selective, and partial remembering…</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Memory is very often the key to understanding. Memory integrates, reconciles, and puts the individual members into perspective as a part of the whole. For us to recognize what God is doing and therefore who God is, we must pray like Paul “that your love may more and more abound, both in understanding and wealth of experience” (Philippians 1:9).</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><span class="s1" style="font-family: Times; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Our remembrance that God has remembered us will be the highway into the future, the straight path of the Lord promised by John the Baptizer [see Luke 3:3–6]. Where there is no memory, there will be no pain, but neither will there be hope. Memory is the basis of both the pain and the rejoicing. We need to re-member both of them; it seems that we cannot have one without the other. Do not be too quick to “heal all of those memories,” unless that means also feeling them deeply and taking them all into our salvation history. God seems to be calling us to suffer the whole of reality, to remember the good along with the bad. Perhaps that is the course of the journey toward new sight and new hope. Memory creates a readiness for salvation, an emptiness to receive love, and a fullness to enjoy it."</span></p></div><div></div></blockquote><div><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #660000;"> </span><span style="color: #660000;">Recall </span><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/63569-i-am-circling-around-god-around-the-ancient-tower-and" target="_blank"><span style="color: #783f04;">Rilke</span></a><span style="color: #660000;">’s poignant image of circles around the ancient tower. Deep breath for not knowing which spiral will be the last.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #660000;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">“I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don't know if I am a falcon, or a storm, or a great song.”<span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-size: 11px;"> </span></span></blockquote><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Finding a spiritual guide seems essential—but also to let go, falling like these autumn leaves through bewilderment…suffering…unknowing… This is so eloquently expressed by Saint Teresa of Avila in “Interior Castle.”</p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span></p></span><p></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>I have sometimes been terribly oppressed by this turmoil of thoughts and it is only just over four years ago that I came to understand by experience that thought (or, to put it more clearly, imagination) is not the same thing as understanding. I asked a learned man about this and he said I was right, which gave me no small satisfaction. For, as the understanding is one of the faculties of the soul, I found it very hard to see why it was sometimes so timid; whereas thoughts, as a rule, fly so fast that only God can restrain them; which He does by uniting us in such a way that we seem in some sense to be loosed from this body. It exasperated me to see the faculties of the soul, as I thought, occupied with God and recollected in Him, and the thought, on the other hand, confused and excited.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>O Lord, do Thou remember how much we have to suffer on this road through lack of knowledge! The worst of it is that, as we do not realize we need to know more when we think about Thee, we cannot ask those who know; indeed we have not even any idea what there is for us to ask them. So we suffer terrible trials because we do not understand ourselves; and we worry over what is not bad at all, but good, and think it very wrong. Hence proceed the afflictions of many people who practise prayer, and their complaints of interior trials—especially if they are unlearned people—so that they become melancholy, and their health declines, and they even abandon prayer altogether, because they fail to realize that there is an interior world close at hand. Just as we cannot stop the movement of the heavens, revolving as they do with such speed, so we cannot restrain our thought. And then we send all the faculties of the soul after it, thinking we are lost, and have misused the time that we are spending in the presence of God. Yet the soul may perhaps be wholly united with Him in the Mansions very near His presence, while thought remains in the outskirts of the castle, suffering the assaults of a thousand wild and venomous creatures and from this suffering winning merit. So this must not upset us, and we must not abandon the struggle, as the devil tries to make us do. Most of these trials and times of unrest come from the fact that we do not understand ourselves. [</span><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">Saint Teresa of Avila. Interior Castle (Dover Thrift Editions) (pp. 49-50). Dover Publications. Kindle Edition]</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sometimes after benefiting from external guides, the journey moves into exploring the authority of deep personal experience, particularly times of suffering; but/and then this too has to be let go.</span></p><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;">“The <i>experience </i>of God’s love must make room for God alone.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>For that experience is not God and erects a screen between the soul and God’s <i>naked </i>Presence. The last traces of the ‘witness,’ the ‘spectator,’ the self-referential human ‘I’ are now dying, being annihilated and utterly transformed, in order for the splendour of the resurrected and transfigured Christ and the glory of His Light and Divine Love to be revealed.” [p. 257, McLean's Towards Mystical Union]</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #660000;"> </span><span style="color: #660000;">As just illustrated, this week’s guidance has come from reading Julienne McLean’s </span><i style="color: #660000;">Towards Mystical Union</i><span style="color: #660000;">, “a modern commentary on the mystical text ‘The Interior Castle’ by St Teresa of Avila” and in reading directly from St. Teresa’s “Interior Castle”... and from the glory of autumn.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #660000;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Some experiences best age in memory…reflected upon. Tempered. Re membered</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #660000; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS91Ja4gdBnaAsr_8Jlxic8NuQ6VL5MBHxOlbRXgQ0y9i-C81OcE0Hsjd752BAn64OngHuBoFbdcYBQtYdX-fq1kNQrCuuYA0Xxzk9RpPIlBNVgXVvqZQmlD0aLWqsyS6Ly6OlUs3Jsn8Dc3iqFxLA_7LNw9uYC3u1CrONl3btd332_a7J3-16DtJ16EWp/s4656/IMG_20231010_073806.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3492" data-original-width="4656" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS91Ja4gdBnaAsr_8Jlxic8NuQ6VL5MBHxOlbRXgQ0y9i-C81OcE0Hsjd752BAn64OngHuBoFbdcYBQtYdX-fq1kNQrCuuYA0Xxzk9RpPIlBNVgXVvqZQmlD0aLWqsyS6Ly6OlUs3Jsn8Dc3iqFxLA_7LNw9uYC3u1CrONl3btd332_a7J3-16DtJ16EWp/w640-h480/IMG_20231010_073806.jpeg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><br /><p class="p1" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p></span><p></p></div>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-36682553343244749282023-02-03T10:17:00.000-05:002023-02-03T10:17:32.395-05:00 In Memoriam. Daniel Alan VanderWerf Stanaland<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirDIVr9isFpJwEALolnQ_z3oomtYAcqPuY1-__spUk8DB5bMiC4sUJwlV2evijGQ--tZAFNzPj4wqQC8vJpLtHVhQW2ZtHVnyLWHbxx1HodWbpz-A18RaR3GA1IGjKD7AHJ2IdtysHe4HoDSl3zknG-GvMtgDiAg_biFGHs0lCBwK2t-ydhs4_zYoVtg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="925" data-original-width="1365" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEirDIVr9isFpJwEALolnQ_z3oomtYAcqPuY1-__spUk8DB5bMiC4sUJwlV2evijGQ--tZAFNzPj4wqQC8vJpLtHVhQW2ZtHVnyLWHbxx1HodWbpz-A18RaR3GA1IGjKD7AHJ2IdtysHe4HoDSl3zknG-GvMtgDiAg_biFGHs0lCBwK2t-ydhs4_zYoVtg=w640-h434" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Daniel, Seattle ferry, February 2020</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">In Memoriam. Daniel Alan VanderWerf Stanaland. July 1, 1982 - January 29, 2023</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47;"> Daniel made his transition from his home in Seattle after complications related to a variety of health issues. Arrangements for burial have been made with</span> <a href="https://www.molesfarewelltributes.com/locations/the-meadow-at-greenacres/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">The Meadow Natural Burial Ground, Ferndale, WA.</span></a></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEju0YvUi6Lkb7ROdJnrP_UxizkaWFK6GL7ECD98l-eqaGv_VxOpB3-Hzbam5r0MsNW8KpYsFuY7N8T7IFCwDobRkIR84UK-uFZfOIz6hnEjsGhYV_zpALri03euEP0cAZxoWbpBmD33-p536FhyeVBo4YAysnlXblv-58HXt1YOVpNAGeIkbMRYcIPp9A" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="1153" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEju0YvUi6Lkb7ROdJnrP_UxizkaWFK6GL7ECD98l-eqaGv_VxOpB3-Hzbam5r0MsNW8KpYsFuY7N8T7IFCwDobRkIR84UK-uFZfOIz6hnEjsGhYV_zpALri03euEP0cAZxoWbpBmD33-p536FhyeVBo4YAysnlXblv-58HXt1YOVpNAGeIkbMRYcIPp9A=w640-h394" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Photo from Meadows website</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47;"> Many wonderful memories remain especially related to Daniel’s lifelong explorations in cyberspace and his adventurous engagements with computers. Following graduation from James Madison University in 2005 with a degree in computer science, Daniel was employed as a computer engineer with positions in Rockville, MD, Winchester, VA, and Seattle, WA. On a recent resume, he self-described as: “Generalist IT Engineer adept in a wide variety of subfields, including test engineering, networking, technical writing, troubleshooting, and programming. Career expertise includes tiger team specialization, large-scale system integration, and IV&V.”</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;"> In addition to his professional career, Daniel generously offered family and friends cutting-edge advice related to computer issues. He usually provided immediate solutions to teeth-gnashing problems for the less tech-savvy; and in the rare occasions that needed further trouble-shooting, he became a jedi on a mission. He’s going to be sorely missed.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="color: #741b47; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiV40Ut12bBI2oc_kgFLA99fiJ0jGnm37MqjMidO0L1FhPsF0mxTaP1FdW9IQP7m7YsNAA0GfgXOkoq6K-qBT_vY8YsmmCm4hW_esivIi93g19RGz88Pc9aLRL1PBOvNzADjMjn5OJwobPdLK4HSDHzXsB3qJwOCaBuZYSlopVaH7bv6INbrYOPuPh4ZQ" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="1055" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiV40Ut12bBI2oc_kgFLA99fiJ0jGnm37MqjMidO0L1FhPsF0mxTaP1FdW9IQP7m7YsNAA0GfgXOkoq6K-qBT_vY8YsmmCm4hW_esivIi93g19RGz88Pc9aLRL1PBOvNzADjMjn5OJwobPdLK4HSDHzXsB3qJwOCaBuZYSlopVaH7bv6INbrYOPuPh4ZQ=w640-h514" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">Daniel and Mom in Seattle, February 2020</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /></span></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-58736573369853325692023-01-12T10:45:00.000-05:002023-01-12T10:45:40.361-05:00Midwinter Knows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMlOBVYUlb7QNxZZ8AOaLRMxr6l7aPR_l9Q3GRbJsGRJjbqN3ukpDOtIHaCOzPD2vnHqAzMwjTSyDpvcz35z055r5Z3q-dI5_IUM-a1TGIsjlD89jRqfENn4l-cNLuHVwZ4jh8-K9QADTamA1h1BbadN1CLkFSD2bm6QCJaQ4tZrf_YuHpHewI2RDLQ/s4524/IMG_20230112_090640.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3180" data-original-width="4524" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNMlOBVYUlb7QNxZZ8AOaLRMxr6l7aPR_l9Q3GRbJsGRJjbqN3ukpDOtIHaCOzPD2vnHqAzMwjTSyDpvcz35z055r5Z3q-dI5_IUM-a1TGIsjlD89jRqfENn4l-cNLuHVwZ4jh8-K9QADTamA1h1BbadN1CLkFSD2bm6QCJaQ4tZrf_YuHpHewI2RDLQ/w640-h450/IMG_20230112_090640.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It might be just the time to trod over the sodden leaf bed, attending to the fallen giants—to this stillness when so much seems asleep as if lifeless, still to sense the eternal presence that holds together, knowing only by heart the year-round spring blush, the summer lost-in-love, and always autumn’s passion, winter-truth.</span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LStsbLrTPoQ6D2RKbMPXSGbIqftr6gdiExcwcGJBVrknquawZnmBkKRUZ-H_mCEQJMgvKLVSDoSPosxk35uAxVdk5xVO2D-L8drzxzip6DqJTgjqXrEDvstjkjJJot4NzwpoErpR58l1bi1cC3MbR2owaeMHMTy176-UtKaMM5k53OW0x-NIp20E0w/s6000/_DSC0319%20(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LStsbLrTPoQ6D2RKbMPXSGbIqftr6gdiExcwcGJBVrknquawZnmBkKRUZ-H_mCEQJMgvKLVSDoSPosxk35uAxVdk5xVO2D-L8drzxzip6DqJTgjqXrEDvstjkjJJot4NzwpoErpR58l1bi1cC3MbR2owaeMHMTy176-UtKaMM5k53OW0x-NIp20E0w/w640-h426/_DSC0319%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Like the deep secret to human wholeness, holiness, plumbs center-wise, passing space/time to pre-eternity, remembering that profession of Trust. The poet's Tavern, drunken on unimaginable majesty, calls even for the subject looking foolish, risking too much, like these wood-kings apparently bared of their royal robes.</span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr5rAFeioPWD0qv3ZnyTyyIUrUHwD1zXziwXuY3P7RugD_96stngQrdttvbKjwHoo7z8ynL0UXOQ3DK4ZtbkA-LlADlkvDBotT8zdkEN6p3duY5nW7FVkV4hnSmYrl8SPgy8m_PaTscgSksdyfsmssLB089X99_uBxSLquwT_bGlQI-jF1LeKFv1Ekrg/s6000/_DSC0316%20(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr5rAFeioPWD0qv3ZnyTyyIUrUHwD1zXziwXuY3P7RugD_96stngQrdttvbKjwHoo7z8ynL0UXOQ3DK4ZtbkA-LlADlkvDBotT8zdkEN6p3duY5nW7FVkV4hnSmYrl8SPgy8m_PaTscgSksdyfsmssLB089X99_uBxSLquwT_bGlQI-jF1LeKFv1Ekrg/w640-h426/_DSC0316%20(1).jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Yet protected in the deepest roots, a spark, never-to-be extinguished, the heart of Love flows from the Source, always returning.</span></p><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYMrqZA6w1LYDasKbfUqRMOFe2pkVywuLK_mRGkY-_28CJNva6lCkYvhaSHVAvWmrt4TThu4j47oaqQBZdT9y9pMBTv5jhcAD4ECik7O2cpmBqC-B0EW22TVY5eedvPco7q748ZP2Djtpc-bLSE8c_V0xPLtfhGnFUZIM2-Pbef1hXLmvYfCpLAqFJQ/s4656/IMG_20230112_091845.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3492" data-original-width="4656" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYMrqZA6w1LYDasKbfUqRMOFe2pkVywuLK_mRGkY-_28CJNva6lCkYvhaSHVAvWmrt4TThu4j47oaqQBZdT9y9pMBTv5jhcAD4ECik7O2cpmBqC-B0EW22TVY5eedvPco7q748ZP2Djtpc-bLSE8c_V0xPLtfhGnFUZIM2-Pbef1hXLmvYfCpLAqFJQ/w640-h480/IMG_20230112_091845.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="background-color: white; color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14.7px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-54232575754984946392022-12-14T06:04:00.002-05:002022-12-14T06:04:41.120-05:00Inarticulate Luminous<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJxTv-zabtMhXAZECUbxs8u-W0NbQ60G0e9WHHb56U-Q3uyMhIBTjspbNLFUbSWv6xEQVfqca5ckj1RJPb5zDYFnQ59oClWbUtVamD4vaM48UClbTTz2cRM-Gv_WxmBk9emzG2NCWTEUIlnKLE9MmiHqpPX6tV7XPiLaMO8Ph-xUXXG9TlCO4GD05-w/s1550/0162%20Dec%207.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="1550" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJxTv-zabtMhXAZECUbxs8u-W0NbQ60G0e9WHHb56U-Q3uyMhIBTjspbNLFUbSWv6xEQVfqca5ckj1RJPb5zDYFnQ59oClWbUtVamD4vaM48UClbTTz2cRM-Gv_WxmBk9emzG2NCWTEUIlnKLE9MmiHqpPX6tV7XPiLaMO8Ph-xUXXG9TlCO4GD05-w/w640-h366/0162%20Dec%207.png" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> Often, if not always, the Path to the Divine appears, at best, only as the body’s weight suspends over the abyss and then, when almost falling, the invisible manifests again, supporting the now-present. A luminous step glimmers, almost immediately disappearing, necessitating moving on. Ibn ‘Arabi, so confusing yet comforting: “Thus it is established that motion belongs to love, for there is no motion in being that is not that of love” (p. 262, </span><i style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Ibn Al-‘Arabi: The Ringstones of Wisdom</i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">, Trans. Caner K. Dagli). Courage to continue on, even faced with fear of falling, then may be summoned, founded in the promise of “following the footsteps” of the prophet or priest, Lord of both worlds, even when such tracks shimmer in wonder more than in familiar forms that are touchable with this world’s eyes or fingers.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> The person who moves this way, more likely than not, gets seen as “mad” (Majnun) or love-sick. Indeed, the best hint of being on-track frequently comes in the texture of longing and/or of bewilderment; for the Divine surpasses the human. Direction comes in the tones of love; the way includes going via the imaginal world and seems best expressed in the play of poetry. This almost maddening dynamic is wonderfully explored in Michael Sells’ <i>The Translator of Desires</i>, his translation and commentary on Ibn ‘Arabi’s poetry. The endless pursuit of the beloved offers expression for how</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“… the divine persona manifests itself in the polished mirror of the heart. Because God or ‘the Real’ is infinite, beyond space and time, its manifestation in space and time lasts only for a moment. In every new moment the manifestation changes. Whoever attempts to hold onto the image locks himself into the dead husk of that manifestation and precludes himself from receiving new manifestations of the divine. The goal is to let go of the previous image in order to be receptive to the divine appearance the next moment within the polished mirror of the heart.” (p. xxvii)</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="1375" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFOSZjd3-dLfBILBn0Oh4NDO72WxtfjfHorbKRhfgzugVpdjye1BbDwfQGMwDSyRQCDWajOEN8tzlbjTMJ_3U-Q7KYyu2Ax_TOpTScCnDx3tFtS40AacFYm6UyQU4mm0Hug_ALCeUdhVXP-rJ--vBL9B59UoxZ0vR1RdZ6AH_0mgvQhwA65mnSOj8vQ/w320-h213/5%2011%20AM.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">5:11 AM</span></td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq48zSLV2YK1MSUdYZEpljMrZoSmchPYgko9niGyhSJdqvgPWiieO50eEvdZnfiRlGqqS8Hnab7LXD4xyvmKx3v_T27TyedvQ76979JwRZQx73JxXiEJ4V_JhKIFBCl8w-7-_rLHVPspO-cBI_7oSuKhPI90EAIJcKOtliWe-HuO4B4dBJHqh4emX3vg/s1374/5%2053%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="911" data-original-width="1374" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq48zSLV2YK1MSUdYZEpljMrZoSmchPYgko9niGyhSJdqvgPWiieO50eEvdZnfiRlGqqS8Hnab7LXD4xyvmKx3v_T27TyedvQ76979JwRZQx73JxXiEJ4V_JhKIFBCl8w-7-_rLHVPspO-cBI_7oSuKhPI90EAIJcKOtliWe-HuO4B4dBJHqh4emX3vg/s320/5%2053%20AM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">5:53 AM</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFOSZjd3-dLfBILBn0Oh4NDO72WxtfjfHorbKRhfgzugVpdjye1BbDwfQGMwDSyRQCDWajOEN8tzlbjTMJ_3U-Q7KYyu2Ax_TOpTScCnDx3tFtS40AacFYm6UyQU4mm0Hug_ALCeUdhVXP-rJ--vBL9B59UoxZ0vR1RdZ6AH_0mgvQhwA65mnSOj8vQ/s1375/5%2011%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a></p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Like the traveller on the desert sands, endurance includes seeing the oasis dissolve as mirage; still trusting instead the camel’s scent of water. Body leads the mind. Knowing through the polished heart surpasses hard reason. So it is the <i>beloved</i> mediates the inarticulable between: on one side the experience of human love, on the other Divine. The known and the unknowable.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xLWY2B-kGOlkoJda7FZk3O8WRewmlPiiipl8tAnx9CKWjaPYAX11QgCTYQVbwGIYHBVw2T6krdCwNHZyyuSIbav0OsveCG0bDjqMM9Jr6ePLzlBd7wKEYrr77fl_SIhtVEfiLm1bu0JSBNfkwIBbMmsIgR33wPBMr7vqY53xiIK3M2eDG2x5De_a7w/s584/Iris%20blue%20on%20poppy%20red.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="584" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xLWY2B-kGOlkoJda7FZk3O8WRewmlPiiipl8tAnx9CKWjaPYAX11QgCTYQVbwGIYHBVw2T6krdCwNHZyyuSIbav0OsveCG0bDjqMM9Jr6ePLzlBd7wKEYrr77fl_SIhtVEfiLm1bu0JSBNfkwIBbMmsIgR33wPBMr7vqY53xiIK3M2eDG2x5De_a7w/w640-h402/Iris%20blue%20on%20poppy%20red.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">(A screensaver appeared while drafting this material.)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Ibn ‘Arabi elaborates on Moses as a guide finding the way. “The station of Moses… could only be possessed by one who had separated realized knowledge from imagination and illusion” (p. 271, <i>Ringstones</i>). In the Preface, Dagli comments on separation but not severance of knowledge from imagination:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">“Indeed, one of the themes of the <i>Fusus</i> is the limitation of the conceptual intelligence in imposing its vision upon the imagination. The former seeks out transcendence and aims to reduce multiplicity to a far-reaching conceptual oneness, whereas the latter perceives and understands the world as a concrete multiplicity of forms and images; it is a vehicle for perceiving the immanence and presence of God. To acknowledge one to the exclusion of the other is to sever man from part of himself.” (p. xi)</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Holding the tension of the unity alongside this multiplicity allows the “one way” to paradoxically coexist with the integrity of unique authentic pathways for each created being. Crucial to this mystery is the capacity to penetrate through to the essence which is the source and life of each moment of creation.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> The Ringstone of Moses elaborates on this with discussion of Moses’ birth mother as providing the breast milk even after he had been placed in Pharaoh’s household.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Then God forbade him to be suckled by any wet nurse, so that he could receive the breast of his mother…It is the same for the Laws’ knowledge. Recall that God has said, <i>For each of you we have appointed a law and a way </i>(Q 5:48), that is, a path. As for ‘way,’ this means that it ‘came from’ that path. These words indicate the principle from whence it came. It is the source of nourishment… the affair is <i>a new creation</i> without repetition. (pp. 258-9, <i>Ringstones</i>).</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> Engaging with Ibn ‘Arabi often makes my head swim, but reassurance also comes from his text:</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Now, guidance is that man should be guided to bewilderment, and know that the affair <i>is</i> bewilderment and that bewilderment is unrest and motion, and that motion is life, without stillness and so without death, and is existence without non-existence.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In note 14 to this passage, Dagli adds<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“… There is no end to the self-disclosure of God, and no matter how far one journeys through the light the never-ending expressions of the Real will always have the power to maintain the sojourner in his state of lucid drunkenness.” (pp. 256-7, <i>Ringstones</i>)</span></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMTCOMX-I0OmIjckiVUbo66iudR5I1VJMQ-iBp_CEUsan7A4O-NPrNYlM22wMvymf4CclUkpilvZxWx40rIYrg_bv4LPr_20z2OqZoqXCmv1RS4tahAnQdP9w3PWHcLRYIbt23PAEGTtkI6heV5NZoHO9qnIfyTwm9sHSqtT0gsfBD5wtX5etJE2BzQ/s1330/winter%20rosegarden%20152.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="885" data-original-width="1330" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglMTCOMX-I0OmIjckiVUbo66iudR5I1VJMQ-iBp_CEUsan7A4O-NPrNYlM22wMvymf4CclUkpilvZxWx40rIYrg_bv4LPr_20z2OqZoqXCmv1RS4tahAnQdP9w3PWHcLRYIbt23PAEGTtkI6heV5NZoHO9qnIfyTwm9sHSqtT0gsfBD5wtX5etJE2BzQ/w640-h426/winter%20rosegarden%20152.png" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-47689104034915973472022-10-04T10:36:00.000-04:002022-10-04T10:36:53.818-04:00Mysticism and Nature's Manifestations<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9pJ6-6jIgENIvN7OcL1afu45xg8qNhJp9Of0W5m7O5NG5vmeDodaMcGU5VYmkPaWlzAcE6oHe0jb1CsnUbwhE96ZzQy9VSBKpiyfxHry3t_1UCDOSLumv8XdwOBJIUZ6Wy_2s9oTiGtIGEyktfH3duMMUpvnDZ_FSgzjRAngeMNtp2zrizT8_J7SVQ/s1223/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-26%20at%208.26.19%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="922" data-original-width="1223" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9pJ6-6jIgENIvN7OcL1afu45xg8qNhJp9Of0W5m7O5NG5vmeDodaMcGU5VYmkPaWlzAcE6oHe0jb1CsnUbwhE96ZzQy9VSBKpiyfxHry3t_1UCDOSLumv8XdwOBJIUZ6Wy_2s9oTiGtIGEyktfH3duMMUpvnDZ_FSgzjRAngeMNtp2zrizT8_J7SVQ/w640-h482/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-26%20at%208.26.19%20AM.png" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Perhaps the impetus to return to Annemarie Schimmel’s <i>Mystical Dimensions of Islam</i> came via someone posting a best-books on mysticism. Thanks to that person who gave the assist because Schimmel's book is heavy, imposing with its 500 pages and extensive footnotes. Her scholarship enriches every page, and this demands/invites careful reading—but well worth the investment. The depth of expertise provides guidance through the writings and the lives of so many seekers of truth. Facing this impressive work, it would be easy to take a passive stance; but instead Schimmel calls for active engagement to quest into the divine:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47;">“In interpreting Islamic mystical texts, one must not forget that many sayings to which we give a deep theological or philosophical meaning may have been intended to be suggestive wordplay; some of the definitions found in the classical texts may have been uttered by the Sufi masters as a sort of </span><i style="color: #741b47;">ko’an</i><span style="color: #741b47;">, a paradox meant to shock the hearer, to kindle discussion, to perplex the logical faculties, and thus to engender a nonlogical understanding of the real meaning of the word concerned, or of the mystical ‘state’ or ‘stage’ in question. The resolution of apparent contradictions in some of these sayings might be found, then, in an act of illumination.” (pp. 12-13; cf </span><a href="https://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2018/08/transcendent-power.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #666666;">Sells’ Mystical Languages of Unsaying</span></a><span style="color: #741b47;">)</span></span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Among the definitions of Sufism, Schimmel includes a gem from Rumi: “‘What is Sufism?’ He said: ‘To find joy in the heart when grief comes’ (Mathnawi 3:3261).” [p. 17; Nicholson translates “sorrow” in place of “grief” and references Q 57:23.]</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">One of the precious gifts of reading this book involves a deepened impression of the interconnection between approaching the Divine and participating in the praise of creation. For example, writing about Dhu’n-Nun (d. 859) and early Sufi mystics, Schimmel translates:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“O God, I never hearken to the voices of the beasts or the rustle of the trees, the splashing of the waters or the song of the birds, the whistling of the wind or the rumble of the thunder, but I sense in them a testimony of Thy Unity, and a proof of Thy incomparability, that Thou art the All-Prevailing, the All-Knowing, the All-True”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>(p. 46)</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">These meditations resonate with the tonalities vibrating from walking amid gardens and woodlands, open to photographic compositions, to close-up revelation of intricate design, to graceful flitting in of butterflies or falling leaves, and to the comforting remembrance</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkf9YDNQnBUyodC1-fPocyFvNRBweny5jbxNnxXU7EAeWKtJgO97i5Bwu8gD3QI14Sn0vhwJeU2tfg-jMLnbvJ2gL7SI3u9aSfBrt8ajl_6K6LhzSWhqG-gJMgK2PWVFrCwQQZNGJrRaXVl4yEmvel-pwyS0ReaB9NiuX96nQbwz3XrmLfO9-dcpyjjQ/s1877/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-26%20at%2010.11.30%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="964" data-original-width="1877" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkf9YDNQnBUyodC1-fPocyFvNRBweny5jbxNnxXU7EAeWKtJgO97i5Bwu8gD3QI14Sn0vhwJeU2tfg-jMLnbvJ2gL7SI3u9aSfBrt8ajl_6K6LhzSWhqG-gJMgK2PWVFrCwQQZNGJrRaXVl4yEmvel-pwyS0ReaB9NiuX96nQbwz3XrmLfO9-dcpyjjQ/w640-h328/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-26%20at%2010.11.30%20AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Screensaver appearing alongside the draft as this was written.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">as treasured savings float onto the screen.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWATuQm_i9323eBssMCpnnclqJ-GHy_5CBhbPQdOPyOtqgRFIAjVZKaHcl88EiXiJaPrXxvCJ2WBVVo6aJBU1oz3rvzNIVdw6CCuaMG6ZmsVm1CTVxqZufpLjYsM-I3RWTtFhrso2U7hv-dcDoCPRCnM83K40JJfKW3RPh-W_hvBPc30Hnh30jXbob0Q/s1688/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-26%20at%2010.13.30%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1688" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWATuQm_i9323eBssMCpnnclqJ-GHy_5CBhbPQdOPyOtqgRFIAjVZKaHcl88EiXiJaPrXxvCJ2WBVVo6aJBU1oz3rvzNIVdw6CCuaMG6ZmsVm1CTVxqZufpLjYsM-I3RWTtFhrso2U7hv-dcDoCPRCnM83K40JJfKW3RPh-W_hvBPc30Hnh30jXbob0Q/w640-h350/Screen%20Shot%202022-09-26%20at%2010.13.30%20AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Screensaver appearing alongside the draft as this was written.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">This participation in nature's manifestation, too, may be offered and realized as praise, as prayer, as presence.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">How many times was I tempted by Schimmel’s accounts of the mystics when she referenced their texts to take up one of those books from a shelf? A stack of them soon built up alongside my desk [see photo at top]. Now having completed <i>Mystical Dimensions</i>, should the next reading be another of Schimmel’s or Franklin Lewis’ much-praised <i>Rumi</i> or one of Lewisohn…?</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Although I hope to engage each of those texts, it’s another she discussed that’s now bringing light: Sir Muhammad Iqbal's Javid-Nama (translated by Arberry). For example,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“… when yearning makes assault upon a world</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">it transforms momentary beings into immortals,” [p. 94, lines 2221-2222]</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Wherever you see a world of color and scent</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">out of whose soil springs the plant of desire</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">is either already illumined by the light of the Chosen One</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">or is still seeking for the Chosen One.” </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">[p. 98, lines 2331-2334]</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc95e9JxIR50GaQ5KY0iuoeg9Gjy6hDiBh5xPEuuDIYFb63Hfr0QQyguir5EFHdDQeUD5I5AQCXwSh3a-hEz26cnIdjyfd8iL89BoefUUmXiW2te4RC4jX0cym07Y6TdvgzmYlz7qxMR_QiKC2AgfoHVGsvrzbAMl0ZoL3lJE4p1NCcW1U0zhN2E2fBg/s1242/Screen%20Shot%202022-10-04%20at%209.42.29%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="882" data-original-width="1242" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc95e9JxIR50GaQ5KY0iuoeg9Gjy6hDiBh5xPEuuDIYFb63Hfr0QQyguir5EFHdDQeUD5I5AQCXwSh3a-hEz26cnIdjyfd8iL89BoefUUmXiW2te4RC4jX0cym07Y6TdvgzmYlz7qxMR_QiKC2AgfoHVGsvrzbAMl0ZoL3lJE4p1NCcW1U0zhN2E2fBg/w640-h454/Screen%20Shot%202022-10-04%20at%209.42.29%20AM.png" width="640" /></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-34414444167142669302022-08-18T11:32:00.000-04:002022-08-18T11:32:15.133-04:00The Long and the Short of It All: God Is—<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiz3854ujheT-G3ZIZiNhK-gHxYuoWyshIU40CoGVgnhu9380bdYjADXCJsXlBK4bmJOhUJpWqw9aTT1mYte6SlCs1ggscYHeKCS0R2tdDssuPFcJnA4GOJWOMUgoGk6JIZExNBb72agHrelmSv6qBgFXyD1-A8lWKYlgJVI0AqNpg5NPgnsW4xWWc72A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1674" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiz3854ujheT-G3ZIZiNhK-gHxYuoWyshIU40CoGVgnhu9380bdYjADXCJsXlBK4bmJOhUJpWqw9aTT1mYte6SlCs1ggscYHeKCS0R2tdDssuPFcJnA4GOJWOMUgoGk6JIZExNBb72agHrelmSv6qBgFXyD1-A8lWKYlgJVI0AqNpg5NPgnsW4xWWc72A=w640-h240" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">Everywhere. </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">Diffused in radiance from here to the far beyond. </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">In the so-short-lived blooms and no less in the scattered petals.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">In the middle of the night before last, calling off sleep, flooding with invisible light and in too many soundless songs playing.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">And that's all right.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #4c1130;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"> Some questions have been asked many times and prayers sent up. To the Almighty: why the suffering? the injustice? And how can the promised Beloved be known more intimately?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Might the answer come in dreams and then spinning free-association fragments of lines read, keeping me awake? It seems best to give gratitude, not grumpiness. Sleep can be deferred, somewhat like the way mystics sacrificed, a hint like ascetics went without. These visitations just might be what the searcher of spirit, of heart and soul longs for.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6yFvXQU4cHTBkMKVW5ScUzFsaU3IJcpTsfYDTxq-rC_HrH3xWKE3pLDNOp4VBGXQGORUShwEmP2Bpky4mtgs40YdYAaK-_GZwGiiRD93G30nZ_KereUqpwo9d-eAp6I6RT8VT-1Q5o7cXmvIojUUuj59ifOn4qMfEQhi_Zq0lYK-UAYSmBy5cOiLRkw" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="917" data-original-width="1222" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6yFvXQU4cHTBkMKVW5ScUzFsaU3IJcpTsfYDTxq-rC_HrH3xWKE3pLDNOp4VBGXQGORUShwEmP2Bpky4mtgs40YdYAaK-_GZwGiiRD93G30nZ_KereUqpwo9d-eAp6I6RT8VT-1Q5o7cXmvIojUUuj59ifOn4qMfEQhi_Zq0lYK-UAYSmBy5cOiLRkw" width="320" /><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">From my personal library of a few hundred books related to mysticism, I've been reading recently in a few: especially Rkia Cornell’s provocative<i> Rabi’a: From Narrative to Myth</i>, Coleman Barks’ <i>Hummingbird Sleep</i>, and Helminski/Blaylock’s <i>Rumi and His Friends</i>.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"></span><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-size: large;">Looking back over a dozen or so <a href="http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2021/10/to-claim-certainty-from-beauty.html " target="_blank">previous blog</a> entries: A mystic, simply put, is someone tenuously claiming personal experience of the Divine. </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLMea_517XuNe9QpO-MOBEkqj0KGMzN_XLlfUVpjUXsIGo808jH5kKm-u-6tkg7gZW4OGhR7aXVLd3yyUX3vBx3wkT4LZ8ztFk5n3EshJJCJPHmL3ltjVPDjW8Iz5-ofNHoozZugMT8uO-IlurTDNl2lZucQl6T8H30Eq6q6Fuhi5YL6p_6J3u8Ff5ew" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="941" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLMea_517XuNe9QpO-MOBEkqj0KGMzN_XLlfUVpjUXsIGo808jH5kKm-u-6tkg7gZW4OGhR7aXVLd3yyUX3vBx3wkT4LZ8ztFk5n3EshJJCJPHmL3ltjVPDjW8Iz5-ofNHoozZugMT8uO-IlurTDNl2lZucQl6T8H30Eq6q6Fuhi5YL6p_6J3u8Ff5ew=w640-h422" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"> As noted in another <a href="https://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2018/08/transcendent-power.html" target="_blank">previous blog</a>, one of my favorite texts engaging the great mystery surrounding this is Michael Sells’ </span><i style="color: #4c1130;">Mystical Languages of Unsaying</i></span><span style="color: #4c1130;"><span style="font-size: large;">. </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKwZZGkrvdOtwVW6gyIVV1ZLyiElmOTvBx1QLEiPkzWbywuzMNO6fMpyw7ICbO0Th0hVpzcBLfj7cD62kOU6rrfRLqFnubXH7SKnm2cFmEgmUnBNON8lAfuM69swuukyBE8iR4jmMNV3_Vw6D_J4M3frV6Qe54SQCRJmImaQnpo7NZ6HARz5g0Q6PLDA" style="font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="802" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKwZZGkrvdOtwVW6gyIVV1ZLyiElmOTvBx1QLEiPkzWbywuzMNO6fMpyw7ICbO0Th0hVpzcBLfj7cD62kOU6rrfRLqFnubXH7SKnm2cFmEgmUnBNON8lAfuM69swuukyBE8iR4jmMNV3_Vw6D_J4M3frV6Qe54SQCRJmImaQnpo7NZ6HARz5g0Q6PLDA=w640-h381" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">As Sells' title indicates, the numinous presence eludes definition yet gives off just enough scent and/or taste to guide the next half-step, the leaning into.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #4c1130;"> </span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"> The most poignant touch of this right now, for me, rises from continued remembrance of my soul brother so recently passing over, now whispering from the other shore in secret code that he promised in our long night before his going. Just a few years ago, like yesterday, he was playing <a href=" https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_xDWaR407ytRkXdTr6Edu4hvTTvs2NYg/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">this song</a>:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvEPJY-XTLfN8V3cxPjkC8hGELBsZS_COqTajJtX-cFqKlJShwsMEL1xixqLF7-nXokHrwjbWkPvUTj8Q7w5UZqn65I2W_Bz1T9AvMdUh89zDs-eZ07bW9rwhqF_rhTwu-cTa42g-Eh88tkB3zRzNfvPJof_38Zt2cu62fFvxKcnmg9Qkl6OtHHo0_Ng" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="1293" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvEPJY-XTLfN8V3cxPjkC8hGELBsZS_COqTajJtX-cFqKlJShwsMEL1xixqLF7-nXokHrwjbWkPvUTj8Q7w5UZqn65I2W_Bz1T9AvMdUh89zDs-eZ07bW9rwhqF_rhTwu-cTa42g-Eh88tkB3zRzNfvPJof_38Zt2cu62fFvxKcnmg9Qkl6OtHHo0_Ng=w640-h344" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">Link: </span><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_xDWaR407ytRkXdTr6Edu4hvTTvs2NYg/view?usp=sharing" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="s1" style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_xDWaR407ytRkXdTr6Edu4hvTTvs2NYg/view?usp=sharing</span></span></a><p></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: large;">Putting my photos with John Amin’s playing and reflecting in the midnight hours led to these reflections:</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: medium;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Around three a.m. semi-waking from a dream</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">about a subtle way of teaching, intent on</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">the other. Trust. All about the mystic.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Through Van Morrison’s hymn, my brother<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">John Amin evokes the calling, like the foghorn warns</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">or summons to the shore. Both of them.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">The mystical living/dying. Midnight hours</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">in meditations say "Stay in the fire. Don't run</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">from transformation. Trust the One. Burn</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">through fear, set free desire to know too much.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Find Coleman’s fireflies and under stones, the guard</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">rails to innocence, to God, inside and out.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Going home Mystic firefly highway love song</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Because while trying to hold impossibles we're</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">slipping away too. After all detaching is</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">the gypsy soul, butterfly wings lift fireflies.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">So don't hold too tight. Love and let go–</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">But trust the faint spirits flickering at midnight</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Guardian angels if faith tells true Visitors</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Cross and carry bridge Unite. Believe in</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Midnight sight</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">The mystic highway…</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">The subtle teaching. It's Sufi walking. Gift</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;">Of the inner Divine</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: medium;"></span></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-20029778748655804342022-08-02T12:47:00.000-04:002022-08-02T12:47:35.038-04:00In Memoriam: Amin John David Whalen<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaREipOW97Grfubla4ysOlEqBIOhbirz5uCuLyzUUBxywpEB-bIlTyeJaKOgDqzxpAkZqtuL4_bKZNNZr6U4f-MA_2AgPiLvn4Lpy-0BSQzb-W0uFsj2V2U9I9iFqmwLmti3-VoxxjpkUDs6Gp7Lr9UTVsxtz-Yy80a_aKdkOJCUL98NxqAE7vUWxgWQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="976" data-original-width="1591" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaREipOW97Grfubla4ysOlEqBIOhbirz5uCuLyzUUBxywpEB-bIlTyeJaKOgDqzxpAkZqtuL4_bKZNNZr6U4f-MA_2AgPiLvn4Lpy-0BSQzb-W0uFsj2V2U9I9iFqmwLmti3-VoxxjpkUDs6Gp7Lr9UTVsxtz-Yy80a_aKdkOJCUL98NxqAE7vUWxgWQ=w640-h392" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">In Memoriam: Amin John David Whalen. </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">July 19, 1955 - July 31, 2022.</span></span><blockquote><div><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Don't look to me--or anyone else--for making sense of death or suffering. Despite reading a dozen or so books on <i>Job</i>, this ongoing revelation steeps with mystery, a holy wholly-personal transmission, respectful of each individual's indwelling Divine secret, carried by the Holy Spirit in sacred conversation, capable of building the space and time to transcend mortality.</span></div></blockquote><div><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> These reflections of mine emerged somewhere in the past week, following all-night vigils, administering pain-reduction medications and softly restraining my soul brother Amin John David Whalen from trying to get free from the hospital-style bed, as his longing heightened for the further shore. In these closing days of his time in this world, as the everyday grasp of reality was slipping through our clasped hands, we meditated on bewilderment, that frustrating theme so often poignant on the path, perhaps one of the best markers of the Way. </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> In the final week of his sojourn here, I was keenly reminded of his sharp intellect, his delightful sense of humor, and his bridging into the mystical dimension. One night, I was reading aloud from Rumi, sometimes comparing Coleman Barks’ version in <i>The Glance</i> with the more literal translations of Nevit Ergin from <i>Divan-i Kebir, Meter 3.</i> One poem that we treasured goes:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“O friend, even the word ‘friend’</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Doesn’t fit between us.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">If I try to say, O Beloved,</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I am unable to say ‘O Beloved.’</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Even ‘Ah,’ goes back to the place</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">From which it comes.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I closed the road to my mouth,</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I can’t wail…”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">(p. 174 in Ergin; cf p. 9 in Barks)</span></p></blockquote><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>One of the other poems we read included the term “ambergris” and I mumbled trying to recall its meaning. Amin managed to whisper “sperm whale,” somehow pulling up the knowledge that ambergris is produced in the digestive system of sperm whales. While I'd been wondering if he was attending at all to the words, he was typically (and to borrow a phrase noted by another of his life-long friends) "ahead of the curve." Amin was dedicated to creating ways to make the world more meaningful.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Another special and world-bridging moment in these final days came in the middle of a night. In one of our final attempts to use words, I managed to figure out that his frustrating attempt to articulate with his partially paralyzed tongue wanted to convey the word “code." He seemed especially pleased when I guessed Morse code, perhaps finally clueing in to his fingers tapping on my arm. </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> But why bring that up? I'm still open to further revelation, yet my working notion is that he wanted to convey that communication no longer need be limited to our normal ways of connecting. Perhaps our experiences over the 35 years of friendship, many of them engaging the liminal edge, often coming through our mutual love of the mythic, the mystic, poetic, the spiritual was opening to more. . . </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">I'm reassured of continuing connection with my partner as coming to mind is </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Jesus comforting his friends shortly before leaving this physical plane:</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">"and behold I am with you always."</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Amin and I were often recommending readings to each other. As his medical prognosis turned more critical, I’d picked up Ghazali’s writing on <i>The Remembrance of Death and the Afterlife</i> and gave a copy to Amin. While neither of us completed the book, we connected on passages such as: “As for the gnostic, he remembers death constantly, because for him it is the tryst with his Beloved…” (p. 8 ). Amin also pointed us to a text found at the back of <i>The Study Qur’an</i> by Hamza Yusuf on “Death, Dying, and the Afterlife in the Qur’an.” It includes this:</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“In the Quran, the Arabs’ denial of the resurrection of the dead is addressed and refuted in several simple yet engaging metaphors. It declares repeatedly that all things in this world have been made in pairs, of which the duality of life and death is a central one, highlighted in sundry verses. Coupled with life and death is the other essential pairing of this world (dunyā) with the Afterlife (ākhirah), a pairing whose sign, the Quran declares, should be discerned alongside Heaven and earth, both of which are commonly repeated motifs in the scripture. Given that all things in this world are created in paired opposites, it would follow that this world also has its opposite, which is the next world. Furthermore, as this world is temporal, its opposite is logically speaking eternal.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">[Hamza Yusuf, “Death, Dying, and the Afterlife in the Qur’an,” In <i>The Study Quran: A New Translation and Commentary,</i> Nasr, Seyyed Hossein; Dagli, Caner K.; Dakake, Maria Massi; Lumbard, Joseph E.B.; Rustom, Mohammed. (p. 1820). HarperOne. Kindle Edition.]</span></p></blockquote><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> So much of spiritual guidance flows from the gift of Remembrance. I remember sweet moments (along with some not so sweet) in company with Mr. Whalen and our mates on the back porch, near the ocean, near Abiqui . . wherever we were. . . but especially when near natural beauty like the earth that Amin so passionately defended and proactively collaborated in order to forge more eco-friendly consciousness and action.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Remembering one special time takes us back to 2016 to Chincoteague with music composed and performed by Mr. Whalen.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oCLBZHadc5M" width="320" youtube-src-id="oCLBZHadc5M"></iframe></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Another collection of wonderful memories are from a trip in 2018 to their New Mexico place near Abiqui.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnzoLhQHSKcmaoXegufZMs1iCu6k7GHsONpKyH13vg5jT_EnmYgU6f7n6jvyljeUTXGbXQX-KCRvAGCG41L1o0buEyBeikUEAYP6JfUCpKN1Km0XknWnilV9XMxUvl46Dpcfed_SvcbJMRmM6vu21N-qmznekQ6Ay_7b4aWedj6ojK8ow65K2MyEIkQA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1133" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhnzoLhQHSKcmaoXegufZMs1iCu6k7GHsONpKyH13vg5jT_EnmYgU6f7n6jvyljeUTXGbXQX-KCRvAGCG41L1o0buEyBeikUEAYP6JfUCpKN1Km0XknWnilV9XMxUvl46Dpcfed_SvcbJMRmM6vu21N-qmznekQ6Ay_7b4aWedj6ojK8ow65K2MyEIkQA=w400-h265" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZpcO1JouDMTw7xKxO97W3D1cvauWzttPjDKC2Y10XRNfiTUmlL6sWQRuYk49QbahczdwQu0r3g2i4wsRWIkqe-hNN7cQx8r6z7oR4PiA0uON3ycScINjTXvn8cn0_-yhuQdcBSn_9MBmIU95SKSO0j1nAR-f_Ok3mzGdUNXqklUfECmrS2iS0Tc1SZw" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: helvetica; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="791" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZpcO1JouDMTw7xKxO97W3D1cvauWzttPjDKC2Y10XRNfiTUmlL6sWQRuYk49QbahczdwQu0r3g2i4wsRWIkqe-hNN7cQx8r6z7oR4PiA0uON3ycScINjTXvn8cn0_-yhuQdcBSn_9MBmIU95SKSO0j1nAR-f_Ok3mzGdUNXqklUfECmrS2iS0Tc1SZw=w400-h338" width="400" /></span></a></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeRoWX3ZZ5bP479S_-FnY15vtt7fMzNcTovNEP_yiNQkTr8QzUhjW6FFglMI4rrI-KTcV2l5oKLddasLQUvPhj8XfCgZ1Nffo0cOie5xAo6s1237Dj-NHb5PkkmJZajNMVPaVDWz2DicqQNA0RZ5VIvWoks7N3cmzRor3xLu5KqlDkFnodesMuPPUtvw" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="916" data-original-width="611" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeRoWX3ZZ5bP479S_-FnY15vtt7fMzNcTovNEP_yiNQkTr8QzUhjW6FFglMI4rrI-KTcV2l5oKLddasLQUvPhj8XfCgZ1Nffo0cOie5xAo6s1237Dj-NHb5PkkmJZajNMVPaVDWz2DicqQNA0RZ5VIvWoks7N3cmzRor3xLu5KqlDkFnodesMuPPUtvw=w266-h400" width="266" /></span></a><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjM-2WuHgPWS4fSvnwJbXwr7BBEpuP6HpSngZx3sT8o1jy0O0ib-EGCmpHEz_VWHInZdEmGhVItYASyex_PvfR4miiQ0hHu7-Y0VcaCks4pusSGZUuZIMwzgHL0tSbzSxtZbrTzsoV4XO4atl2t3TaTuEVYA-UQF-D3kiqFE8CKKWzQaV_HQZD4ij94Jg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="756" data-original-width="1132" height="429" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjM-2WuHgPWS4fSvnwJbXwr7BBEpuP6HpSngZx3sT8o1jy0O0ib-EGCmpHEz_VWHInZdEmGhVItYASyex_PvfR4miiQ0hHu7-Y0VcaCks4pusSGZUuZIMwzgHL0tSbzSxtZbrTzsoV4XO4atl2t3TaTuEVYA-UQF-D3kiqFE8CKKWzQaV_HQZD4ij94Jg=w640-h429" width="640" /></span></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Not long before their move to Ireland, John sent me a video he made called Dreaming Donegal. I'll continue trying to provide access for you to listen and view it. Meanwhile, continue remembrance. . .</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><br /></p></div>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-70169740857606234412022-05-12T09:11:00.000-04:002022-05-12T09:11:20.564-04:00Longing and Certitude<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuUxEsRT4DAkudx7w1mS3LjVo1EAIz0UUHIggZQ8Ys82mlCRGg_hmHkhFmtiUvNwPHC4yZxK33Ns988NJDIRM1TLxI22yapHUSI4BEcOFGRcBLt8twuqUjHXkF10oHMALPnlgla34L3sJeYkUm-5xrxXtMWUrD0G-PHw5S2Sk6vKp-s_uJNz8svxGLA/s5009/_DSC0713.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2972" data-original-width="5009" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuUxEsRT4DAkudx7w1mS3LjVo1EAIz0UUHIggZQ8Ys82mlCRGg_hmHkhFmtiUvNwPHC4yZxK33Ns988NJDIRM1TLxI22yapHUSI4BEcOFGRcBLt8twuqUjHXkF10oHMALPnlgla34L3sJeYkUm-5xrxXtMWUrD0G-PHw5S2Sk6vKp-s_uJNz8svxGLA/w640-h380/_DSC0713.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“... and there’s not a trace of doubt…” Even a monkey-mind acknowledges the longing for certitude. Such longing itself testifies to the presence of God, but how easily this affirmation, the longing instead gets misconstrued as abandonment and taken as an elevator down to despair.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mystics and other seekers of God have tried for ages to tell us that our conception, the picture we hold of “reality,” determines what we know and how it’s revealed.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>A person’s construction depends on whether he or she is committed (a) to things of this world or (A</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">+) to God’s World. It takes a special faith to discern Truth in a culture shadowed for centuries by the legacy of “cogito ergo sum” (I think therefore I am), a world entrenched in the “scientific method.” How demanding it is to live in reliance upon the Word Who speaks in a whispered stillness that’s often heard only by the individual in his or her unique aloneness, often inarticulate and unconfirmed by anyone else. And yet, how thrilling! How awesome the inner temple of God!</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“… the answer [to the more superficial aspects of human’s condition], as Ghazali had discovered for himself, lay only in internalizing the formalities of religion through ‘tasting’ (<i>dhawq</i>): personal religious experience… the only way to certitude” (p. xviii, Introduction by T.J. Winter to <i>Al-Ghazali: The Remembrance of Death and the Afterllife</i>)</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRi7UvxvWA3-c5899-kR_m2zviARhe1KanXe9LEKYB3TsmBHjp-C-j7OzYDMsSjxVFmsPQbxBTcoek60fnz4vsMU9oCRC6TSHaYPjX8_is7lIjUeOJkNG8xDaRXEZyRBY2Ce167xukNn9iPcCkT5YQcFipXuy95eZxN-ua_Zvq3qoAtfyrzI5G-uGXKw/s6000/_DSC0715.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRi7UvxvWA3-c5899-kR_m2zviARhe1KanXe9LEKYB3TsmBHjp-C-j7OzYDMsSjxVFmsPQbxBTcoek60fnz4vsMU9oCRC6TSHaYPjX8_is7lIjUeOJkNG8xDaRXEZyRBY2Ce167xukNn9iPcCkT5YQcFipXuy95eZxN-ua_Zvq3qoAtfyrzI5G-uGXKw/w640-h426/_DSC0715.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Neither the furthest reaches of human thought nor one’s hardest effort can reach the Divine; for the assurance of God’s presence rests upon God’s grace. When left to the human mind, doubt is certain. The great Divine cannot be known through human resources alone.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“How far apart is the one who seeks proof through God from the one who seeks proof for God! The one who seeks proof through God acknowledges the due that he owes, and affirms the matter by reference to its original existence. One seeks proof for Him only because one has not reached Him. Otherwise, when was it that He became absent, such that one would need to seek proof for Him? And when was it that He became distant, such that one would need to follow the tracks of created things to find him?” (p. 240,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Shaykh Mohamed Faouzi al-Karkari, <i>Introduction to Islamic Metaphysics: A Contemporary Sufi Treatise on the Secrets of the Divine Name).</i></span></blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><i></i></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuvbURVD2uB2G8LlykURXVprtvXngILyIqTJ71IkxX4KGBec7OMZxiK08fWsmB3vaAnxalg3uRs2Z9Uiu4iB0OO0VNZF--nRvyYDf8qwGpcOoNO1Dn5FS2_9qdx33Xy718X9G2FRXPZGvefWbuYV2enqJt1DGR5tbVcvJOJA2G3zf7jL6E4pnV5mcRQ/s6000/_DSC0723.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuvbURVD2uB2G8LlykURXVprtvXngILyIqTJ71IkxX4KGBec7OMZxiK08fWsmB3vaAnxalg3uRs2Z9Uiu4iB0OO0VNZF--nRvyYDf8qwGpcOoNO1Dn5FS2_9qdx33Xy718X9G2FRXPZGvefWbuYV2enqJt1DGR5tbVcvJOJA2G3zf7jL6E4pnV5mcRQ/w640-h426/_DSC0723.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>When I enter the wholeness of the ephemeral blossom of life/death, when nested into the beauty of early sunlight igniting the yellow and red poppies, the inner light reflects God’s Majesty. This conjoining of the Immanent and the Transcendent, the yielding to paradox, breaks open the false self, the prison of human arrogance, the pride of self-sufficient intellect. That which is true can only be found in the One, in God; for Truth is one of God’s names. In surrendering completely to God’s Sovereignty, we may be admitted, by God’s Grace, to the Unity, to the full mystery of Love, Peace, Justice, Mercy, Beauty, and the full spectrum of Life/Death.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Thus, dear disciple, if you wish to be among the people of union, you must gather the beautiful names within your true self. For the secret of the names lies in their gathered totality. God says: ‘He taught Adam all the names” [Qur’an 2:31], and the totality of the names is the secret of union of the everlasting presence.” (p. 230,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Shaykh Mohamed Faouzi al-Karkari, <i>Introduction to Islamic Metaphysics)</i></span></blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><i></i></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisDD7VrSU9lb4wkQhU8d_qwuQNNu5NS9bzZJut0q38qulq9LoDYZ3AYZOujVDPxYO_rv786fp5ut8CQRjPmtMzk0iTZOUXq-PGUTyKhY8TMSWLalY9_Gs5ODylaxNQwgeYlW1tVVNsZoCSKgDaXmZ3KZsqjYjUuAd7IqKa16GsXtDA8YKGxeR7Q0pyQA/s4928/_DSC0717.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2977" data-original-width="4928" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisDD7VrSU9lb4wkQhU8d_qwuQNNu5NS9bzZJut0q38qulq9LoDYZ3AYZOujVDPxYO_rv786fp5ut8CQRjPmtMzk0iTZOUXq-PGUTyKhY8TMSWLalY9_Gs5ODylaxNQwgeYlW1tVVNsZoCSKgDaXmZ3KZsqjYjUuAd7IqKa16GsXtDA8YKGxeR7Q0pyQA/w640-h386/_DSC0717.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Richard Rohr’s meditation this week elaborates the textures of longing drawing especially on <a href="https://cac.org/mystical-allurement-2022-05-08/" target="_blank">Teilhard de Chardin</a> and <a href="https://cac.org/daily-meditations/silence-2022-05-10/ " target="_blank">Saint John of the Cross</a>. Quoting from Teilhard:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“God does not offer Himself to our finite beings as a thing all complete and ready to be embraced. For us God is eternal discovery and eternal growth. The more we think we understand God, the more God reveals Himself as otherwise. The more we think we hold God, the further God withdraws, drawing us into the depths of Himself.” (Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, <i>The Divine Milieu: An Essay on the Interior Life</i> (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1960), 119. Note: some changes made for inclusive language.)</span></blockquote><p></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“John of the Cross describes the doubt that disrupts a soul in the dark night, when all sense of knowing God is absent. Mirabai Starr translates from John’s classic work Dark Night of the Soul:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">‘The deep suffering of the soul in the night of sense comes not so much from the aridity she must endure but from this growing suspicion that she has lost her way. She thinks that all spiritual blessing is over and that God has abandoned her. She finds neither support nor delight in holy things. Growing weary, she struggles in vain to practice the tricks [prayer practices] that used to yield results. </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">. . </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">The best thing for the soul to do is to pay no attention to the fact that the actions of her faculties are slipping away. . . . She needs to get out of the way. In peaceful plentitude, let her now say “yes” to the infused contemplation God is bestowing upon her. . . . Contemplation is nothing other than a secret, peaceful, loving inflow of God. If given room, it will fire the soul in the spirit of love. [John of the Cross, </span><i style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Dark Night of the Soul,</i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> trans. Mirabai Starr. Riverhead Books, 2002), 67, 68–69, 70.</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">]</span></span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2hA992ygA7LAr5ikCx0Vuk39-Kw09B1MAiW42gpyYqkNvgMhq6vzKZ3ut_1f5OQF-wwqh5EXgy4BBU5_2PFF1np3WvZE2YqAcr-zGulmaU0wMeVD9Cz7N4BO5_vfRp-Lyyl8sIBfXf67suEy5vuTQVI7yIMCaWFP6TM0mRlw9ZMLRBzDpGGeeEcu1w/s5990/_DSC0710.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3616" data-original-width="5990" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2hA992ygA7LAr5ikCx0Vuk39-Kw09B1MAiW42gpyYqkNvgMhq6vzKZ3ut_1f5OQF-wwqh5EXgy4BBU5_2PFF1np3WvZE2YqAcr-zGulmaU0wMeVD9Cz7N4BO5_vfRp-Lyyl8sIBfXf67suEy5vuTQVI7yIMCaWFP6TM0mRlw9ZMLRBzDpGGeeEcu1w/w640-h386/_DSC0710.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-84648469834921337602022-04-19T12:08:00.000-04:002022-04-19T12:08:09.495-04:00Presence Here and Now<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLoqIrK4gpOc4USr3ugSjHgjRWqn3gj0fb-XrSHTGkTCd7i46TZ-u1Ct32NB9_oPLESCIl-LsGp9cyh244V1lMox_deCE1L62K8lcooNePSt4SaZemDNiSBB2wjaoO_HP0BStbIoge9X5H8PZFY1zg_fbjdS6AzuSmMoYMvKPDCGS_AWFtGb1EJoKRg/s4885/A1%20485.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="4885" height="525" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkLoqIrK4gpOc4USr3ugSjHgjRWqn3gj0fb-XrSHTGkTCd7i46TZ-u1Ct32NB9_oPLESCIl-LsGp9cyh244V1lMox_deCE1L62K8lcooNePSt4SaZemDNiSBB2wjaoO_HP0BStbIoge9X5H8PZFY1zg_fbjdS6AzuSmMoYMvKPDCGS_AWFtGb1EJoKRg/w640-h525/A1%20485.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">April 18, 2022: the most photo-compelling day of all—at least in these parts, at least in recent memory… a day not even necessary to leave the comfort of the house in order to frame the visions of beauty.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62yKbMFU-uwPUtwBv1mn9D8TW6l2CmWFLFfhHqxtwVlXZgTkn_VHbk39do3ZIKmmA1xsZ1X1nLwVfyQZ_OeJ8MSQ338-xvuA-WKMzuf8NJlOp2wP75Jst09g-K3lF2mtUDey10oXZMEUSkm7mWEy1GPbGjLchFHD4cBMHmH4YsKj5oudYlYSH-oSPaQ/s6000/A2%20492.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62yKbMFU-uwPUtwBv1mn9D8TW6l2CmWFLFfhHqxtwVlXZgTkn_VHbk39do3ZIKmmA1xsZ1X1nLwVfyQZ_OeJ8MSQ338-xvuA-WKMzuf8NJlOp2wP75Jst09g-K3lF2mtUDey10oXZMEUSkm7mWEy1GPbGjLchFHD4cBMHmH4YsKj5oudYlYSH-oSPaQ/w640-h426/A2%20492.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Perhaps this date gifted a reminder of the guidance: “Be here now!”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>While travel to the exotic</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5QxI6GXsQxZV0BOrE9F49Dma9D-9rA_sVRt8-Vh7oVtt4Sx_TeX3-gQe7Fayke6ecgU-85rBWLAPbTLT3wBpSVlHxNbkVHmS4rb-BFB845M8Q2Rtrud2X7ojtzuYF8nNcCCPuAhB5bDjuJNd6tP74pVU-1ppRKdwKiCyc9Z4uMN332tatOy0QA-u5Fw/s797/A4%20exotic%20Oct%2028.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="797" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5QxI6GXsQxZV0BOrE9F49Dma9D-9rA_sVRt8-Vh7oVtt4Sx_TeX3-gQe7Fayke6ecgU-85rBWLAPbTLT3wBpSVlHxNbkVHmS4rb-BFB845M8Q2Rtrud2X7ojtzuYF8nNcCCPuAhB5bDjuJNd6tP74pVU-1ppRKdwKiCyc9Z4uMN332tatOy0QA-u5Fw/w640-h398/A4%20exotic%20Oct%2028.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-size: medium;"><a href="http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-transforming-sanctuary-of-nature.html " target="_blank">Oct 28, 2018</a></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">may expand horizons and spark imagination;</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="493" data-original-width="795" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73prXkJdYF5z52MT07W-4oPtsafya-5DDsSt6-2XD1a0kGUUMiUXc2A3xGRDbR4WEd8enwmJGEIcrZMc8S4OoE07FDqcx_f5pEXxZp0vi_x8KwzKMKBmeWxxFHzi_opyZKk-iWPo6G3cfwxfpzynp6MSXpaT3mnXFpnlogYdGoRAyX6lHTab4ERlsXA/w640-h396/A5%20True%20signs%20apr%2028.png" width="640" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; text-align: left;"><a href="http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2018/04/true-signs.html " target="_blank"><span style="font-size: medium;">True Signs Apr 28, 2018</span></a></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">a vital window to the spiritual life comes home in being present to each individual’s gift from the Divine, the True Self. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> Absorbed In yesterday’s amazing display, my being thrilled in the awesome manifestation of the images containing wholeness:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>light and dark,</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnAkTTjI2dXNWJIsI7265BtGHJdqoVMJAe8MMtlK5YydsAm-B_wdFu4pHIO0A2DYv6x3Wc85nQ1cbKKHw9Q3dnipYnthOXYdaPvz24vOWyYOA8X2kU9X4JGWlx2JS8HdY0vcxERxlk6CoiApGhSS1_fS04_3-P07jejE4RL3GN0cpeDXFEAttvLzyhUA/s6000/A6%20468.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnAkTTjI2dXNWJIsI7265BtGHJdqoVMJAe8MMtlK5YydsAm-B_wdFu4pHIO0A2DYv6x3Wc85nQ1cbKKHw9Q3dnipYnthOXYdaPvz24vOWyYOA8X2kU9X4JGWlx2JS8HdY0vcxERxlk6CoiApGhSS1_fS04_3-P07jejE4RL3GN0cpeDXFEAttvLzyhUA/w640-h426/A6%20468.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">lime-green spring holding bleak winter—a holy embrace.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xNwK4Q2Xhx6gcJjJLvcsb8vNWnBFvi8jNHLTiGxLCIhWeXN4MQ87_dSUcC9zNLmwfXTbtpEMS4cQ6JdsfhUbTi1uK4t9fa11gkLptO45qFMkX1uluz8F1AIzpnIt7BK9JubICL7LfytafvaJO24hj2hlqyHYrJP0QJUac8dnI0b4OBkFHtPDmbyvPw/s6000/A7%20lime%20435.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8xNwK4Q2Xhx6gcJjJLvcsb8vNWnBFvi8jNHLTiGxLCIhWeXN4MQ87_dSUcC9zNLmwfXTbtpEMS4cQ6JdsfhUbTi1uK4t9fa11gkLptO45qFMkX1uluz8F1AIzpnIt7BK9JubICL7LfytafvaJO24hj2hlqyHYrJP0QJUac8dnI0b4OBkFHtPDmbyvPw/w640-h426/A7%20lime%20435.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Often beauty takes breath away with rainbow-hued dusk</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoaqeCCtFtYmRLWVJ4AVXlU_8ub-wmtq_BAsgMMflOOL2jZaeg5juLZQARaG3a01mDOgiPiUL39spLd868XNde5xypteVfYTHH4Q0ftsMKF1nPhTGn7Ecqcfsy50UTcmarwE33987P2yTXXIzXqdpm4HrtcI1jjvAw3T3uvSyhTu7j6rO3sywV7kqvdA/s957/A8%20dusk%20Feb%203%20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="957" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoaqeCCtFtYmRLWVJ4AVXlU_8ub-wmtq_BAsgMMflOOL2jZaeg5juLZQARaG3a01mDOgiPiUL39spLd868XNde5xypteVfYTHH4Q0ftsMKF1nPhTGn7Ecqcfsy50UTcmarwE33987P2yTXXIzXqdpm4HrtcI1jjvAw3T3uvSyhTu7j6rO3sywV7kqvdA/w640-h522/A8%20dusk%20Feb%203%20.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href=" http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2022/02/winter-containment.html " target="_blank">Winter Containment</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">in morning-lit webs of life</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0NWer2HPlQqWZSSD5BN9rY0pYJFmLSaaoIDwgDrU7KxIbFavxbrks0G8rukiKMxVmvDher18jPKCjQw9oRibe9VdUgsLqIHhiVwlNDIaxkC9bd3YXesGFNQdBn3Dz4IsiRgbfXEKf99s93LiUeHn5zB5Q1JxExI2N1BmvHUBq48wIBS4qoO7fOlinkA/s461/A9%20web%20Sept%2030.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="461" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0NWer2HPlQqWZSSD5BN9rY0pYJFmLSaaoIDwgDrU7KxIbFavxbrks0G8rukiKMxVmvDher18jPKCjQw9oRibe9VdUgsLqIHhiVwlNDIaxkC9bd3YXesGFNQdBn3Dz4IsiRgbfXEKf99s93LiUeHn5zB5Q1JxExI2N1BmvHUBq48wIBS4qoO7fOlinkA/w640-h464/A9%20web%20Sept%2030.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2021/09/now-we-see-dimly.html " target="_blank">Now we see Dimly</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">in the contours tracing the pathways we travel;</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRFEodxuYfPMv_5E9YKPc-xsI3cnWRMJtXeFqpJhhknqY6vwsSOW22l4yY44vSt3o1dcDlPM_49VV01jOVrhN4YO-G5tPVHxYhmmovNQdvCbQU3Do2DILFJIUzXSeYpmCHly_yzt_XCYdFQ1JBnhCsOoCypSBoYnifMj5Mdfs9LwyExBMXSAowrauZg/s923/A10%20contours%20Jun%201%202021.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="923" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRFEodxuYfPMv_5E9YKPc-xsI3cnWRMJtXeFqpJhhknqY6vwsSOW22l4yY44vSt3o1dcDlPM_49VV01jOVrhN4YO-G5tPVHxYhmmovNQdvCbQU3Do2DILFJIUzXSeYpmCHly_yzt_XCYdFQ1JBnhCsOoCypSBoYnifMj5Mdfs9LwyExBMXSAowrauZg/w640-h358/A10%20contours%20Jun%201%202021.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href=" http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2021/06/ " target="_blank">Contours. Jun 1, 2021</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">and yet, perhaps more importantly, holding steady in the present sometimes sends revelations </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">through the worn boards of the barn, and</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoEAl4eFOPR5tyf0kNP5d8QXkjT4xRH2gaIDEPGJNFevN_mJF454ML6vg1S6qTvqXFsh9EWppyW8NsflZpEMNWWI_YzXHOuGefTyHBMvZSTM2CChJYpwxeuZ4OQpzAlMOLIJL1Pg8EO53n8bPYPIEkRarWRSm53j1sMU78phUc4Qe2_uFiXLTbB5ezA/s1165/A11%20barn%20boards.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="838" data-original-width="1165" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUoEAl4eFOPR5tyf0kNP5d8QXkjT4xRH2gaIDEPGJNFevN_mJF454ML6vg1S6qTvqXFsh9EWppyW8NsflZpEMNWWI_YzXHOuGefTyHBMvZSTM2CChJYpwxeuZ4OQpzAlMOLIJL1Pg8EO53n8bPYPIEkRarWRSm53j1sMU78phUc4Qe2_uFiXLTbB5ezA/w640-h460/A11%20barn%20boards.png" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">and like the grace of aging well, in the lichen-covered, decaying, no-longer functional, or then<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhQXSFjs5JZr_gqVaDhGldCYlBZnPo7VC9UHk78riYcoCkAcG1qYDTiTmIAJZtQoGuGeY-oqLGzu-pZUF9Dz4lw4D9F8PVg7J2Jt4Pdmvmy-aM7BkFAIghjBOHQ5hnrw-HgYQQNgCVIialUPr8gxrS4Ye-7qD-bjfnDhjK9PjJJuseJs8n0nDc7zwSQ/s1166/A12%20table%20Oct%2010.png" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="856" data-original-width="1166" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfhQXSFjs5JZr_gqVaDhGldCYlBZnPo7VC9UHk78riYcoCkAcG1qYDTiTmIAJZtQoGuGeY-oqLGzu-pZUF9Dz4lw4D9F8PVg7J2Jt4Pdmvmy-aM7BkFAIghjBOHQ5hnrw-HgYQQNgCVIialUPr8gxrS4Ye-7qD-bjfnDhjK9PjJJuseJs8n0nDc7zwSQ/w640-h470/A12%20table%20Oct%2010.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://dochorsetales.blogspot.com/2021/10/to-claim-certainty-from-beauty.html" target="_blank">Certainty</a></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">from an always-open doorway.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMItJq8BgiBlaXRlp9QPawls4_wbwqSfaJQY7R-pDSZunVUs9uTDc8GMgfH0RTppIIKi0nVoFg1qraXLFuZRTU928azQBwajvHAkmqmRMRhySPvH797kK2DKtLHPxYVZcA0hTGuPDyQZXlCPYzXS_gIXxGpZKI2-Rm_U2cqncUoNdeOmYj_bRDFeCKA/s6000/A13%200476.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMMItJq8BgiBlaXRlp9QPawls4_wbwqSfaJQY7R-pDSZunVUs9uTDc8GMgfH0RTppIIKi0nVoFg1qraXLFuZRTU928azQBwajvHAkmqmRMRhySPvH797kK2DKtLHPxYVZcA0hTGuPDyQZXlCPYzXS_gIXxGpZKI2-Rm_U2cqncUoNdeOmYj_bRDFeCKA/w640-h426/A13%200476.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">And Beauty is but one of the names of God. The Presence manifests in Long-Suffering (cf Ann Bedford Ulanov, <i>The Wizard’s </i>Gate),<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeyDAm9x4q8uBd5eF8aPKBtfcSyag31PlaXx4wZFOn1aE2j3NWcPLJ4JOxeSqNTM2KvcJODhd-AYMaI1_lWnE0A8AOsjatHGbvE8zzbXlyg1vdM8GzZ0w_ud-VtlXMlvzFlUZivNyOxbhMdY-us_JZILDxzljB7xf_uyk8XsIb36zdLm8hUq0kiHoFA/s3738/A14%20444.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2463" data-original-width="3738" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeyDAm9x4q8uBd5eF8aPKBtfcSyag31PlaXx4wZFOn1aE2j3NWcPLJ4JOxeSqNTM2KvcJODhd-AYMaI1_lWnE0A8AOsjatHGbvE8zzbXlyg1vdM8GzZ0w_ud-VtlXMlvzFlUZivNyOxbhMdY-us_JZILDxzljB7xf_uyk8XsIb36zdLm8hUq0kiHoFA/w640-h422/A14%20444.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">in giving to the struggle for Justice, and, of course, through longing further in the almost unendurable, soul-stretching hands of Love.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Jesus said: I am the light above everything.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">I am everything.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Everything came forth from me,</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">and everything reached me.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Split wood, I am there.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Life up a rock, you will find me there.”</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">[Gospel of Thomas 77. Cited in:</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><i>Perennial Wisdom for the Spiritually Independent</i>, p. 45]</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 11px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVnYRWJmWIqGhN7rRVPO47KX0NQJJ9goj9Wdx-RCrFKXCeamciMtSyCpqQTzt3duHs3zRX4p1W4ZvEdP8PVKctjDJ6QB8UGqoi4wWkf94m4QCUCGQNNo5Sg5qycCzV96F6N-Ofmx43w4a9OQsPCs0d4DtAvxr_jJMzfd7eG44tV9uVVtxwP12iMuNu6Q/s6000/A15%20471.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVnYRWJmWIqGhN7rRVPO47KX0NQJJ9goj9Wdx-RCrFKXCeamciMtSyCpqQTzt3duHs3zRX4p1W4ZvEdP8PVKctjDJ6QB8UGqoi4wWkf94m4QCUCGQNNo5Sg5qycCzV96F6N-Ofmx43w4a9OQsPCs0d4DtAvxr_jJMzfd7eG44tV9uVVtxwP12iMuNu6Q/w640-h426/A15%20471.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-56672285531799273072022-02-09T11:39:00.000-05:002022-02-09T11:39:46.170-05:00Light and Shadow in Late Winter<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXHfDvuLvoDstCX0nhvmT8Ctf5dUPzsv4L19gY-PscOuPmGowkHTd3LtJSV03jk4hixT9kE6Q0yUsb-U8TrJsnabHO7qcU5DLSpsGrIwaQymQnJ-PMKDvkwWL_304ZjOBUzIN7X_K6fny5gw4_SwVTFWXrq4fe4JUWERXupttgRc4UBoG-i0cIXFkI6Q" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="1374" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXHfDvuLvoDstCX0nhvmT8Ctf5dUPzsv4L19gY-PscOuPmGowkHTd3LtJSV03jk4hixT9kE6Q0yUsb-U8TrJsnabHO7qcU5DLSpsGrIwaQymQnJ-PMKDvkwWL_304ZjOBUzIN7X_K6fny5gw4_SwVTFWXrq4fe4JUWERXupttgRc4UBoG-i0cIXFkI6Q=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The play of light hints across remnants of the last snowfall and flows on into the woodland with its still-clinging autumn leaves that this early morning call glowing in dawn’s promise, as if all this transmits a stay/leave tease in and out of hibernation’s haunt. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9MLaSWMyHQTpRMoLQgfLVNTW7Ej4CRZwe_aXkQ5cAAEUMog57e-kukefxV1yCmg28SvVdaBFwguoDmaN1qSPF1kZ72nevc2mTFoLexdbnxHkhzNNrdgeTuzy0wabuZVoHxtas1OJIMgjT0Ivk8G3cm8GS7KWqoCQdYJn5O9p9gCMzKF_XNwc2ty-vPQ=s6000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9MLaSWMyHQTpRMoLQgfLVNTW7Ej4CRZwe_aXkQ5cAAEUMog57e-kukefxV1yCmg28SvVdaBFwguoDmaN1qSPF1kZ72nevc2mTFoLexdbnxHkhzNNrdgeTuzy0wabuZVoHxtas1OJIMgjT0Ivk8G3cm8GS7KWqoCQdYJn5O9p9gCMzKF_XNwc2ty-vPQ=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Today’s social media (also flickering pre-dawn) featured a post by David Whyte on <i>Love</i>, a word ever transforming, calling "come in--if you dare..." Remember its falling-in and falling-out, the cross between the known and the further on. From <i>Consolations</i>, Whyte offers this:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgY1sqw1vgbGnoTo7vyORCM19gtOGHQ5u2Am6-7A2bVcoYyZFouQ7UzvZDthuSDnbrEVGOwkobXJSCiKtDlcWJn2D0DGT37Ysjrj2fa-XUxtmlPxNplOzpwgnby1Wva5Ht29xuDfoNE9oLYEpV6pg93F7l9k3NVbte9Berv1wsYawC9-ipKbq1ur50Nyg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="535" height="563" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgY1sqw1vgbGnoTo7vyORCM19gtOGHQ5u2Am6-7A2bVcoYyZFouQ7UzvZDthuSDnbrEVGOwkobXJSCiKtDlcWJn2D0DGT37Ysjrj2fa-XUxtmlPxNplOzpwgnby1Wva5Ht29xuDfoNE9oLYEpV6pg93F7l9k3NVbte9Berv1wsYawC9-ipKbq1ur50Nyg=w640-h563" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAbLlyTJaVykyhUS4BoFK5dx2BRKfHJv6oBbhSN3NgFivqVpKpf-TNgrGY2Hncp8mrLycPQBQYTCq-38koxbJv7XtKp5mbwYVC0jzUxODbuv9keqwjStr56D_m_Evm5Ql9cVE52WZgl6eYv_qEAVs13AWH6JQAv1-OPQkJyoUQ4r9tEHXx_2XJKBXRAA=s6000" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjAbLlyTJaVykyhUS4BoFK5dx2BRKfHJv6oBbhSN3NgFivqVpKpf-TNgrGY2Hncp8mrLycPQBQYTCq-38koxbJv7XtKp5mbwYVC0jzUxODbuv9keqwjStr56D_m_Evm5Ql9cVE52WZgl6eYv_qEAVs13AWH6JQAv1-OPQkJyoUQ4r9tEHXx_2XJKBXRAA=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></div><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-55783911766468065592022-02-03T09:37:00.000-05:002022-02-03T09:37:14.342-05:00Winter Containment<p><br /></p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoW1YvA7wrXN1qvESmBlegh46a1Aa9k5QI3No6afNWShPNOmotJRn8JCBXJUNEcgcUksZ6e6z8miEon9p7l0mgWGzKXyh-Z7LnOkEvEQG_sqAHlPOU1dFsp-AJ-rtBFMJj3OqerlssRG5BqSFec81I3hZTIjeFFXvpUMW7cLyMULypl7URpYrr7wWA0g=s1225" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="915" data-original-width="1225" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoW1YvA7wrXN1qvESmBlegh46a1Aa9k5QI3No6afNWShPNOmotJRn8JCBXJUNEcgcUksZ6e6z8miEon9p7l0mgWGzKXyh-Z7LnOkEvEQG_sqAHlPOU1dFsp-AJ-rtBFMJj3OqerlssRG5BqSFec81I3hZTIjeFFXvpUMW7cLyMULypl7URpYrr7wWA0g=w640-h478" width="640" /></a></div></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47;">While not a big fan of winter, this season perseveres in proving the value found in stripping down to the basics, the beauty revealed in moving toward the essence. Spiritual teachings stress the hard truth of suffering that is necessary in order to remove the superficial and to recover the True Self; for example, “die before you die,” “to thine own self be true,” and “He who knows himself (or his-self, his soul, his mind) knows his Lord.” The latter phrase is provocatively elaborated in </span><a href="https://ibnarabisociety.org/notes-on-unless-you-know-yourself-dom-sylvester-houedard/ " target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;">an article </span></a><span style="color: #741b47;">by Dom Sylvester Houédard, “Notes on the More Than Human Saying: ‘Unless you know yourself you cannot know God.’” For example, he writes:</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“The authentically Semitic act of gnosis <i>(daath, yada </i>‘to know’) is always the fruitful experience of the one living God as Lord and so as obliging us; e.g. knowledge of God’s goodness to us imposing on us goodness to others. It is the certitude of faith fruitful in deeds; the knowledge that produces likeness and makes us like what we know, that deifies and makes us deiform.”</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">Houédard also links to the Creation and to “the essence prior to the creating word”:</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Whoever wishes to know the divine breath must first know the cosmos for he who knows himself knows his Lord who is manifest in him. (The ‘distress of the Divine Names at the non-manifestation of their effects’ prior to the creating word of command, is not only why the obligating command is for us to show the effects, but indicates that the divine and uncreated energies are themselves an eternal manifestation of the essence prior to the creating word: the former is developed by Eckhart, the latter by S. Gregory Palamas.)”</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #741b47;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47;">Along these lines, Antonio Machado’s </span><a href="https://www.poetasandaluces.com/poema/85/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;"><i>Llamó a mi corazón</i> </span></a><span style="color: #741b47;"> has long been a favorite, memorized and often recited in Spanish and with Robert Bly’s English translation. The second end rhyme (</span><i style="color: #741b47;">viento/quiero</i><span style="color: #741b47;">) capsulizes the essential quest, the human/divine drama; and the entire poem radiates with images of the True Self.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></i></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Llamó a mi corazón, un claro día,</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">con un perfume de jazmín, el viento.</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>-A cambio de este aroma,</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">todo el aroma de tus rosas quiero.</span></i></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilfW8_lIG_EX1yrRkuHPJZclmzALsyTshmCcMtOkSzIhevYKCvwo87E-hx5QxewgUYH7sQcZk6ni2t_fDJSL-shB8s6zGwDupzGqaDeaSdV6yTA2l8DE9njSDlfDGuk27rikI_7ZRQKwnpnN5A9P6ww0zrx4Px8ghmBau17tfmhUHFX7wooGWRkapzvg=s1223" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="917" data-original-width="1223" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilfW8_lIG_EX1yrRkuHPJZclmzALsyTshmCcMtOkSzIhevYKCvwo87E-hx5QxewgUYH7sQcZk6ni2t_fDJSL-shB8s6zGwDupzGqaDeaSdV6yTA2l8DE9njSDlfDGuk27rikI_7ZRQKwnpnN5A9P6ww0zrx4Px8ghmBau17tfmhUHFX7wooGWRkapzvg=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><i>Quiero </i>translates as “want, wish, or love”; <i>viento</i> as “wind.” And as the ensuing lines tell, this wind speaks to the soul, calling to account for the tending of the garden: The human accountability for nurturing the divine spark poignantly noted with the longing for the aroma of the roses, the watering of the flowers, and heartbreak over the lost inheritance. As often shown in revelation, this wind carries the holy spirit, the breath of God, the communion to and from the Self.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span> Like a compass needle, my directional finder points to “true self,” perhaps always, certainly as years advance. Far back in the beginning, only twenty-seven verses into the Good Book, we’re given our inheritance and destiny: “made in the image of God.” And yet, the currents of life confuse the signal system, or maybe the pathway back home takes threads of many colors, making the unique texture of each creation.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">In any case, the current clue that seems to be key to getting there comes in this teaching: “to know yourself is to know your Lord.” That magnetic pole star has been featured across religions and through varied major writers.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSxW2ZtITzO9ZtMNmqZ7TnX16daz-lh_LDqKDUyZ2DpQUYN9vdFDbLIjl8GEh3FyXSEL9BaHYrSF_-GoCOlT3Hicj36LSHmVAxTUHObGPVXIxZuAxwJsbJ1Rf2QC_bwQefy8zDc4IU32N5MZwNS_g-7BG605exu1174MsoLNHrqQWoodkP3M7nJokZqw=s1365" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1365" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSxW2ZtITzO9ZtMNmqZ7TnX16daz-lh_LDqKDUyZ2DpQUYN9vdFDbLIjl8GEh3FyXSEL9BaHYrSF_-GoCOlT3Hicj36LSHmVAxTUHObGPVXIxZuAxwJsbJ1Rf2QC_bwQefy8zDc4IU32N5MZwNS_g-7BG605exu1174MsoLNHrqQWoodkP3M7nJokZqw=w400-h269" width="400" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Readings resonate as soul guides, especially ones on gnosis/mysticism, suffering, and wholeness. As the season of winter draws inward, space has opened to engage volumes that previously seemed too demanding: C.G. Jung’s <i>Aion</i>, <i>The Grail Legend</i> by Emma Jung and Marie-Louise von Franz, Barbara Hannah’s <i>Striving Toward Wholeness</i>, and writings by St. John of the Cross, including Edith Stein’s <i>The Science of the Cross</i>.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The swirl, stirring up muddy stuff from the bottom, among readings, dreams, and weather, seems to compose in the effort and evidence of holding together opposites. Barbara Hannah writes:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“In the empirical Self of psychology, light and shadow form a paradoxical unity, but in the orthodox Christian concept the archetype is split into two irreconcilable halves…</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">This inevitably involves us in a crucifixion of the ego between these two irreconcilable opposites. Of course, there can be no final extinction of the ego, for that would destroy all possibility of consciousness. The ego has to submit, however, to a continual crucifixion between the opposites, to those dreaded conflicts in duty…" (pp. 28-28, Lectures on Jung’s <i>Aion</i>).</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGmdyP0GSy-NBmWoUdBMtXISRwLhRcyQzHg-e-YCPP6iv0gnJuOVdEPR5soUwUIxk_v149Zenb-xfRGywKllPcuU-qAeW99M8lnNpYPGuInQQ8hekTJYLx3lTo38gSFtRLKZXc2pdz3AgJFKuVieH3ChonpHJMvrUMoKRhUT167ThZBiaTSC6m4BsUlQ=s1378" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="918" data-original-width="1378" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGmdyP0GSy-NBmWoUdBMtXISRwLhRcyQzHg-e-YCPP6iv0gnJuOVdEPR5soUwUIxk_v149Zenb-xfRGywKllPcuU-qAeW99M8lnNpYPGuInQQ8hekTJYLx3lTo38gSFtRLKZXc2pdz3AgJFKuVieH3ChonpHJMvrUMoKRhUT167ThZBiaTSC6m4BsUlQ=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-7656262961843448532021-10-10T13:07:00.004-04:002021-10-10T13:57:17.925-04:00To Claim Certainty from Beauty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hNpzyZFoROw/YWMcpxkJN4I/AAAAAAAAOcc/O8N5A-Ky2uMhrhxufj9SKEYaqa0LJpnzQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0485%2B%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hNpzyZFoROw/YWMcpxkJN4I/AAAAAAAAOcc/O8N5A-Ky2uMhrhxufj9SKEYaqa0LJpnzQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0485%2B%25281%2529.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">The invitation offered through these autumn leaves connects with continued reading in Evelyn Underhill’s<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><i style="color: #5f0f37; font-family: Helvetica;">Mysticism: The Development of Humankind’s Spiritual Consciousness</i><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #5f0f37; font-family: Helvetica;">. </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Underhill builds our capacity to challenge the way our access to the divine has been blocked by the misrepresentation of mysticism as duplicitous magic. Do we forfeit our treasure by distrusting the mystic? Why should we accept the lie that God’s presence is limited only to the extreme ascetic? Why allow ourselves to cut ourselves off from God’s Love by filling our hearts with shallow stuff? For example, Underhill says,</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">“In the symbolic form there is no mental deception: the self is aware that it is being shown truth ‘under an image.’ . . .<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In such a vision as this, we see the mystic’s passion for the Absolute, his intuition of Its presence in his soul, combining with material supplied by a poetic imagination, and expressing itself in an allegorical form. It is really a visualized poem, inspired by a direct contact with truth (pp. 285-286).</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBo-ndxWJNY/YWMcpV-FKkI/AAAAAAAAOcU/AmwjBWDA6TYwuXA39Jj6qAmRhxhSU71NwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0481.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBo-ndxWJNY/YWMcpV-FKkI/AAAAAAAAOcU/AmwjBWDA6TYwuXA39Jj6qAmRhxhSU71NwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0481.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Yes, in order to share the mystic treasure, we have to be able to work symbolically, but that is our human birthright. We’re much given to using words, to taking pictures, to doing art in many forms. We just have to go a bit further because it is easy to get caught on the surface, easier to resist paradox, easiest to prefer quick solutions rather than plumbing multiple translations/representations until the resonance of truth calls us home. But it’s in this mystic-like work and play that seeks truth where we find joy and peace. They’re calling from just a dimension further into the beauty, the love, the justice that our fingertips are almost touching and that our hearts are being touched by almost every day. This is the mystic pathway.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Imaginary vision of this kind is probably far more common than is generally supposed: and can exist without any disturbance of that balance of faculties which is usually recognized as “sane.” “If,” says Pratt, “there be any truth in Freud’s insistence upon the symbolic nature of normal dreams, it is the less surprising that the dream imagination of the Christian mystic should work up visions of a symbolic sort. . . . Our modern tendency to consider visions quite extraordinary and pathological is probably mistaken.” [Underhill, p. 288, quoting from Pratt’s <i>The Religious Consciousness</i>, p. 404]</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KZwdOc_7A8E/YWMcprT8OLI/AAAAAAAAOcY/zEGvkZTZNtYo_DUEhBWgcbd4cGpGPPV-gCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0474.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KZwdOc_7A8E/YWMcprT8OLI/AAAAAAAAOcY/zEGvkZTZNtYo_DUEhBWgcbd4cGpGPPV-gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0474.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">The pathway depends on choosing Reality instead of “reality.” The trail is marked by appreciation for beauty when the fakes are discarded, by the taste of joy when thrill seeking’s abandoned, when true love gets valued above the cheap substitutes. It’s seeing beyond the surface as Underwood explains “the whole philosophy of vision”:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">It is an accommodation of the supra-sensible to our human disabilities, a symbolic reconstruction of reality on levels accessible to sense. This symbolic reconstruction is seen as a profoundly significant, vivid, and dramatic dream: and since this dream conveys transcendental truth, and initiates the visionary into the atmosphere of the Eternal, it may well claim precedence over that prosaic and perpetual vision which we call the “real world.” . . . In these words she [Mechthild of Hackborn] understood how Love had subjected to herself the Omnipotent Majesty of God, had inebriated His Unsearchable Wisdom, had drawn forth all His most sweet goodness; and, by wholly conquering His divine justice and changing it into gentleness and mercy, had moved the Lord of all Majesty. (pp. 287-8).<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_0uB2YyAYyE/YWMc6M-qBRI/AAAAAAAAOcs/E8AnxRrHTcUO3a-Io3lUJmV4TgYBEEcZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0377.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_0uB2YyAYyE/YWMc6M-qBRI/AAAAAAAAOcs/E8AnxRrHTcUO3a-Io3lUJmV4TgYBEEcZQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0377.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-14411419427305645632021-09-30T11:59:00.001-04:002021-09-30T11:59:42.611-04:00Now we see dimly<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AtABZiwp-yQ/YVXZG0SmYvI/AAAAAAAAOL8/ug8eo08yM6sxzLZw4uqevnApnqzlJFakQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20210930_081200.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AtABZiwp-yQ/YVXZG0SmYvI/AAAAAAAAOL8/ug8eo08yM6sxzLZw4uqevnApnqzlJFakQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/IMG_20210930_081200.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-small;">early morning, September 30</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130;">This morning fog in concert with dawn light and deciduous woodland serve as reminder of how/when/why we see dimly, summoning lines from the chapter on Love: “For now we see in a mirror dimly” (1Cor 13:12). And, as the word selection points out, sight into the divine remains a puzzle: we see enigmatically. Ellicott’s </span><i style="color: #4c1130;">Commentary for English Readers</i><span style="color: #4c1130;"> elaborates on</span><span style="color: #741b47;"> <a href="https://www.biblehub.com/1_corinthians/13-12.htm" target="_blank"><span style="color: #741b47;">the passage from Corinthians</span></a>:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“<b>Through a glass, darkly.</b>--Better, <span class="s1"><i>through</i></span> <span class="s1"><i>a</i></span> <span class="s1"><i>mirror in a dark saying.</i></span> The illustration here is from a mirror when the image appears far behind the mirror itself. If we remember the imperfect metal surfaces which formed the mirrors of those days, we can imagine how imperfect and enigmatical (the Greek word is "in an <span class="s1"><i>enigma"</i></span>) would the image appear; so that the Apostle says, "Like that image which you see when you look at an object in a mirror far off, with blurred and undefined outline, such is our knowledge here and now; but <span class="s1"><i>then</i></span> (<span class="s1"><i>i.e.,</i></span> when this dispensation is at an end) we shall see as you see a man when you stand before him face to face.”</span></blockquote><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">And yet even in the dim and puzzling view, how powerfully may we be touched, moved by Beauty.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GhizlUBN96M/YVXao6NJtVI/AAAAAAAAOME/f7PnGMDW6McNwybJ-PpzWdazF2gCwyEMQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2616/_DSC0184.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1202" data-original-width="2616" height="294" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GhizlUBN96M/YVXao6NJtVI/AAAAAAAAOME/f7PnGMDW6McNwybJ-PpzWdazF2gCwyEMQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h294/_DSC0184.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>The foggy puzzle also pushes us to humility, to acknowledge our limitation, and like Job (as representative of all mystics) to confess: “indeed, God is great—beyond our knowledge” (Job 36:26). To </span><span class="s3" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">see as mystics see, we sacrifice the presumption that our minds capture Reality and surrender to the gift of Beauty, imprecise as it may appear, insecure as we may feel.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xdWiwaKHP0A/YVXbTPpQbwI/AAAAAAAAOMM/gwNikAk2KsglYcCulopsUbKt8jEqNbq_QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0355.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xdWiwaKHP0A/YVXbTPpQbwI/AAAAAAAAOMM/gwNikAk2KsglYcCulopsUbKt8jEqNbq_QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0355.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">view through window screen, Sept 29</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">Evelyn Underhill elaborates so articulately:</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span></p><blockquote><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“They [mystics] have never been deceived by phenomena, nor by the careful logic of the industrious intellect. One after another, with extraordinary unanimity, they have rejected that appeal to the unreal world of appearance which is the standard of sensible men: affirming that there is another way, another secret, by which the conscious self may reach the actuality which it seeks. More complete in their grasp of experience than the votaries of intellect or of sense, they accept as central for life those spiritual messages which are mediated by religion, by beauty, and by pain. . .</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">We must perceive in it, as some mystics have done, “the beating of the Heart of God”; and agree with Heracleitus that “there is but one wisdom, to understand the knowledge by which all things are steered through the All.” Union with reality—apprehension of it—will upon this hypothesis be union with life at its most intense point: in its most dynamic aspect. . .</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The Indian mystics declare substantially the same truth when they say that the illusion of finitude is only to be escaped by relapsing into the substantial and universal life, abolishing individuality. So too, by a deliberate self-abandonment to that which Plato calls the “saving madness” of ecstasy, did the initiates of Dionysus “draw near to God.” So their Christian cousins assert that “self-surrender” is the only way: that they must die to live, must lose to find: that knowing implies being: that the method and secret which they have always practiced consists merely in a meek and loving union—the synthesis of passion and self-sacrifice—with that divine and unseparated life, that larger consciousness in which the soul is grounded, and which they hold to be an aspect of the life of God. In their hours of contemplation, they deliberately empty themselves of the false images of the intellect, neglect the cinematograph of sense. Then only are they capable of transcending the merely intellectual levels of consciousness, and perceiving that Reality which “hath no image.” (<i>Mysticism: The Development of Humankind’s Spiritual Consciousness</i>, pp. 23, 30, 31-32)</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">To move closer to the Divine, we must search out a view of beauty like that of a dew-dampened web, like the love that links us in relationships with all others, all of nature, all humankind, and beyond.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHzl-Mp4CJU/YVXcturudbI/AAAAAAAAOMU/hv1i53aTq54AxJffxV54RT2ykfy4xtpbwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1251/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-30%2Bat%2B11.48.48%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="834" data-original-width="1251" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qHzl-Mp4CJU/YVXcturudbI/AAAAAAAAOMU/hv1i53aTq54AxJffxV54RT2ykfy4xtpbwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-30%2Bat%2B11.48.48%2BAM.png" width="400" /></a></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EkTGD6ZnFVQ/YVXct1JKHlI/AAAAAAAAOMc/pcdGKLfr3FI7IbhS5jAb2hq74FddCmmzgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1249/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-30%2Bat%2B11.49.23%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="1249" height="268" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EkTGD6ZnFVQ/YVXct1JKHlI/AAAAAAAAOMc/pcdGKLfr3FI7IbhS5jAb2hq74FddCmmzgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h268/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-30%2Bat%2B11.49.23%2BAM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">Underhill again:</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Pilgrimage to the place of the wise,” said Jalalu ‘ddin, “is to find escape from the flame of separation.” It is the mystics’ secret in a nutshell. “When I stand empty in God’s will and empty of God’s will and of all His works and of God Himself,” cries Eckhart with his usual violence of language, “then am I above all creatures and am neither God nor creature, but I am what I was and evermore shall be.” He attains, that is to say, by this escape from a narrow selfhood, not to identity with God—that were only conceivable upon a basis of pantheism—but to an identity with his own substantial life, and through it with the life of a real and living universe; in symbolic language, with “the thought of the Divine Mind” whereby union with that Mind in the essence or ground of the soul becomes possible. The first great message of Vitalistic philosophy is then seen to be—Cease to identify your intellect and your self: a primary lesson which none who purpose the study of mysticism may neglect. Become at least aware of, if you cannot “know,” the larger, truer self: that root and depth of spirit, as St. François de Sales calls it, from which intellect and feeling grow as fingers from the palm of the hand—that free creative self which constitutes your true life, as distinguished from the scrap of consciousness which is its servant (Mysticism, p. 32).</span></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gaQAobKd250/YVXdsw4cLkI/AAAAAAAAOMo/huzJcsbTzKACiUs-5IrSKl-wdB_XRO7HgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1261/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-08-14%2Bat%2B6.47.51%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="744" data-original-width="1261" height="378" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gaQAobKd250/YVXdsw4cLkI/AAAAAAAAOMo/huzJcsbTzKACiUs-5IrSKl-wdB_XRO7HgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h378/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-08-14%2Bat%2B6.47.51%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p></p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"></span><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-12691156462024541352021-09-12T09:55:00.001-04:002021-09-12T09:59:35.493-04:00An Early Autumn Sunday: Flowers & Fruits<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Stnxix5v2hU/YT4DCa1kP-I/AAAAAAAAOAQ/rcLAkNmGKMoXquD6Lft599xw0c71nHWhQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0204.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Stnxix5v2hU/YT4DCa1kP-I/AAAAAAAAOAQ/rcLAkNmGKMoXquD6Lft599xw0c71nHWhQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0204.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X0WMDAk3Mfo/YT4DKWlI-KI/AAAAAAAAOAY/2nTt7Yk_SRkLLuYMXrpMbqd8WkAeZsPRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0205.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X0WMDAk3Mfo/YT4DKWlI-KI/AAAAAAAAOAY/2nTt7Yk_SRkLLuYMXrpMbqd8WkAeZsPRgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/_DSC0205.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div></div><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Unfallen, intelligible spiritual matter is primordial soul, a proclivity for seeing and contemplation, a potentiality for vision that awaits a sight. Therefore we may even call it ‘darkness,’ for sight is light. It is the darkness of deep potency, not a darkness of privation or lack—a virgin, primal, creative darkness, without memory, desire, or understanding. Filled with sight, however, impressed with her true object, this soul is love—‘the love that is an eye filled with its vision, a seeing that bears its image with it.’ Thus soul—human nature—in its true state is the living, qualitative medium of God’s vision of himself.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hYc-WinNV58/YT4DFcDoMFI/AAAAAAAAOAU/qi-W8FaxN5QsjRWYlCusq0IqvkDNGCtywCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0203.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="296" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hYc-WinNV58/YT4DFcDoMFI/AAAAAAAAOAU/qi-W8FaxN5QsjRWYlCusq0IqvkDNGCtywCLcBGAsYHQ/w445-h296/_DSC0203.jpeg" width="445" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i>The Voice of the Eagle</i> (John Scotus Eriugena’s Homily on the Prologue to the Gospel of St. John, Translated with Introduction and Reflections by Christopher Bamford), pp. 257-258.</span></p><p></p><p></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DiTAp1Q_sOg/YT4DCAZw98I/AAAAAAAAOAM/hu5SzT-LFfQlSGcZ4JGUcek6y3HPuYlCwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0202.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1545" data-original-width="2048" height="175" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DiTAp1Q_sOg/YT4DCAZw98I/AAAAAAAAOAM/hu5SzT-LFfQlSGcZ4JGUcek6y3HPuYlCwCLcBGAsYHQ/w232-h175/_DSC0202.jpeg" width="232" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quince</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2iIymsShL6M/YT4DLuOYJgI/AAAAAAAAOAc/XYzW1Q74Fjc1ICH9F_mOc03R_LwTH-ImQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0208.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="276" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2iIymsShL6M/YT4DLuOYJgI/AAAAAAAAOAc/XYzW1Q74Fjc1ICH9F_mOc03R_LwTH-ImQCLcBGAsYHQ/w416-h276/_DSC0208.jpeg" width="416" /></a></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jXRzat3h7PI/YT4DRHL-ZOI/AAAAAAAAOAk/IH0-W0i-8EA7HVzZ4Cw-Vz53o0xLSrQRACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0210.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="156" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jXRzat3h7PI/YT4DRHL-ZOI/AAAAAAAAOAk/IH0-W0i-8EA7HVzZ4Cw-Vz53o0xLSrQRACLcBGAsYHQ/w234-h156/_DSC0210.jpeg" width="234" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raspberry</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KOzb15kH8aE/YT4DOMxNtYI/AAAAAAAAOAg/YOhX9hv26wcbmpS2qMLxn8qwgbrGzM_SwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0209.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="215" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KOzb15kH8aE/YT4DOMxNtYI/AAAAAAAAOAg/YOhX9hv26wcbmpS2qMLxn8qwgbrGzM_SwCLcBGAsYHQ/w325-h215/_DSC0209.jpeg" width="325" /></a></div><div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sW4bnVIzVBY/YT4DSXi3kyI/AAAAAAAAOAw/7BHc7DSl-0Id5glWilq2-CLZ0vUXwAwQACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0215.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sW4bnVIzVBY/YT4DSXi3kyI/AAAAAAAAOAw/7BHc7DSl-0Id5glWilq2-CLZ0vUXwAwQACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/_DSC0215.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sW4bnVIzVBY/YT4DSXi3kyI/AAAAAAAAOAw/7BHc7DSl-0Id5glWilq2-CLZ0vUXwAwQACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0215.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sW4bnVIzVBY/YT4DSXi3kyI/AAAAAAAAOAw/7BHc7DSl-0Id5glWilq2-CLZ0vUXwAwQACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0215.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PfW3zQbO108/YT4DR3NcEeI/AAAAAAAAOAs/_j1m0VbhKpcsI8T1XoKCNii7KGuvErFPACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0213.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PfW3zQbO108/YT4DR3NcEeI/AAAAAAAAOAs/_j1m0VbhKpcsI8T1XoKCNii7KGuvErFPACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0213.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div></div><br /> <p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-58608784552523551612021-09-05T09:53:00.002-04:002021-09-05T11:45:46.971-04:00The Transcendent Immanent<div style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">Sunday morning. <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vkalu1pnG-c/YTTGgHdzHLI/AAAAAAAAN54/k1sfcUe22VUCoP3egujdiBlI2UWiXFlFgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0169.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vkalu1pnG-c/YTTGgHdzHLI/AAAAAAAAN54/k1sfcUe22VUCoP3egujdiBlI2UWiXFlFgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0169.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">Waking to a lovely soft rain, christening newly-opened autumn blooms and ripening berries, </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; text-align: right;">all proclaiming “God is Great!”</span></div><div style="font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large; text-align: right;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w59d_kmo_gU/YTTGhvQpM0I/AAAAAAAAN6A/W6a1WnR0bS4C6PORMsAvGiyhxP2-PTgyACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0172.jpeg" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w59d_kmo_gU/YTTGhvQpM0I/AAAAAAAAN6A/W6a1WnR0bS4C6PORMsAvGiyhxP2-PTgyACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/_DSC0172.jpeg" width="320" /></a><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w59d_kmo_gU/YTTGhvQpM0I/AAAAAAAAN6A/W6a1WnR0bS4C6PORMsAvGiyhxP2-PTgyACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0172.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; font-size: x-large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><div style="text-align: right;"><br />This wonder-filling mystery exceeds human words but reflection on the Word shimmers forth,</div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E776bFjIG-A/YTTGdQzlZhI/AAAAAAAAN50/c53hUlNkw20fpW9HEDfZQxsjj0UISi1RQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1246/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B8.59.07%2BAM.png" style="clear: right; float: right; font-size: x-large; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1246" height="216" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E776bFjIG-A/YTTGdQzlZhI/AAAAAAAAN50/c53hUlNkw20fpW9HEDfZQxsjj0UISi1RQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B8.59.07%2BAM.png" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> <br /></span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">like this passage from Christopher Bamford’s </span><i style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">Voice of the Eagle</i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;">:</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">“We dare affirm (because it is the truth) that the Creator of the universe himself, in his beautiful and good yearning toward the universe, is through excessing yearning of his Goodness transported outside of himself in his providential activities toward all things that have being, and is touched by the sweet spell of Goodness, Love, and Yearning, and so is drawn from his transcendent throne above all things to dwell within the heart of all things through a substantial and ecstatic power whereby he yet stays within himself…"</span> </blockquote><blockquote><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCT32JzU15c/YTTGhozxRdI/AAAAAAAAN58/rcn0zimRe701wu37c1UokhZmo8nA3v6yQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0170.jpeg" style="font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1546" data-original-width="2048" height="485" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCT32JzU15c/YTTGhozxRdI/AAAAAAAAN58/rcn0zimRe701wu37c1UokhZmo8nA3v6yQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h485/_DSC0170.jpeg" width="640" /></a></blockquote></span><span style="color: #741b47;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;">"Therefore, on the one hand they call him the object of Love and Yearning as being beautiful and good and, on the other, they call him Yearning and Love as being a motive power leading all things to himself, who is the only ultimate beautiful and good—Yea, as being his own self-revelation and the bounteous emanation of his own transcendent unity, a motion of yearning, simple, self-moved, self-acting, preexistent in the Good, and overflowing from the Good into creation, and once again returning to the Good.”</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></blockquote></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #741b47;">(</span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Christopher Bamford, </span><i style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">Voice of the Eagle, </i><span style="color: #741b47;">pp. 176-177, attributed to Dionysius and in elaboration of commentary on John Scotus Eriugena’s Homily on the Prologue to the Gospel of St. John)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PCT32JzU15c/YTTGhozxRdI/AAAAAAAAN58/rcn0zimRe701wu37c1UokhZmo8nA3v6yQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0170.jpeg" style="font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LreG_7y83m8/YTTGda2QoCI/AAAAAAAAN5w/dtPutv0o-AoPbG0dHlN-hZaNI4ZVYJpiQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1261/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B9.02.03%2BAM.png" style="font-size: x-large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="831" data-original-width="1261" height="422" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LreG_7y83m8/YTTGda2QoCI/AAAAAAAAN5w/dtPutv0o-AoPbG0dHlN-hZaNI4ZVYJpiQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h422/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-09-05%2Bat%2B9.02.03%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-28443355024861369712021-06-01T08:25:00.002-04:002021-06-01T08:25:53.339-04:00Nature’s Path of Beauty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2ivX6_bSeE/YLYkZnUvDrI/AAAAAAAAM5I/JEDGfchC_xktFuhyU1dG-Hh4qM_QPZs4gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1279/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-25%2Bat%2B8.25.15%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="890" data-original-width="1279" height="446" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2ivX6_bSeE/YLYkZnUvDrI/AAAAAAAAM5I/JEDGfchC_xktFuhyU1dG-Hh4qM_QPZs4gCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h446/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-25%2Bat%2B8.25.15%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">The Iris Season this year displayed an abundance beyond any we’ve seen in our sixteen years amid these gardens. The fragile blooms lasted long due to unusually gentle breezes instead of occasional strong winds and to a generous space of soft sunlight without heavy rain. Yet after this pleasant interlude, their well-being called for rains and then they came. This life-sustaining gift we welcomed even knowing the blooming side of beauty sooner slips back inside.</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Is it not the very transience that compels us into Presence—shearing us from attachments to a precious side of beauty, a momentary joy, or another attachment? Too easily a manifestation may be frozen into an idol that swears time can be stayed. The false self lies.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In <i>Raids on the Unspeakable, </i>Thomas Merton contrasts two views of Prometheus leading us to consider our choices of how to live: A) the presumption of the false self that builds up sand-castle idols as if the lies could approach the all-surpassing God or B) ) the surrender before the image of God that’s sowed in one’s heart.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xErOatI2veI/YLYk5l5y33I/AAAAAAAAM5Q/BDmm4T4z8kAETsO-a7YeHv197DGC-NlWACLcBGAsYHQ/s1336/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-13%2Bat%2B8.30.07%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="890" data-original-width="1336" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xErOatI2veI/YLYk5l5y33I/AAAAAAAAM5Q/BDmm4T4z8kAETsO-a7YeHv197DGC-NlWACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-13%2Bat%2B8.30.07%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">I wonder if contemplating Beauty guides one in becoming able to apprehend beyond the surface, and if this love of the divine form also then aids in discernment of the ugly, of the presumptions, the lies. Might a person thus tell, perhaps by visceral reaction to a countenance that tries to hide lies? Remember the emperor's new clothing made naked to sight untarnished. Truth is evident to clean vision like that of a child, giving discernment not yet compromised by toxic exposures to power, greed, and other distortions that spoil our divine inheritance.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The Unity that calls to seekers flows in the holy gifts: As when Love comes through into intimate life, like wonderment at the birth of a child, like when Beauty awes us through transcendent lines lifting off iris petals on rays of light, in pearls of raindrop—these moments of being taken into the divine quality. Presence of the One, always here, now.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l61fcpLs4Lk/YLYlLFDtd3I/AAAAAAAAM5Y/nKkrGqubeuU0vX1s2_2K4DXREvZaT2RIQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1338/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-22%2Bat%2B8.41.50%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="891" data-original-width="1338" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l61fcpLs4Lk/YLYlLFDtd3I/AAAAAAAAM5Y/nKkrGqubeuU0vX1s2_2K4DXREvZaT2RIQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-22%2Bat%2B8.41.50%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; white-space: pre;"> </span><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;">The liminal edge shimmers in the prism in the raindrop on the lip of the perfect iris. The numinous shines in the mirror of the heart’s eye reflecting the true self. This grace, this great Compassion feeds the manna of certainty beyond words, known beyond the reach of reason, felt in awe in the wonder of the Presence. It’s sensed in he shimmering passage, the edge of luminosity on the precipice of nothing…</span></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--OiFvzXMpFk/YLYm9K-tvpI/AAAAAAAAM5o/n2TKJnb19gEW17CMUJtP37nvkRWAfpIwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1146/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-25%2Bat%2B7.53.07%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="1146" height="430" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--OiFvzXMpFk/YLYm9K-tvpI/AAAAAAAAM5o/n2TKJnb19gEW17CMUJtP37nvkRWAfpIwgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h430/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-25%2Bat%2B7.53.07%2BPM.png" width="640" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Related readings:</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">William Chittick. <i>Self-Disclosure of God</i> . For example, p. 332- on imagination and <i>barzakh</i>.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">James Finley. <i>Merton’s Palace of Nowhere</i>. “To use the imagery of Saint John of the Cross, there is a path to walk with ‘no light except the one that burns in your heart’” (p. 12).</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><i></i><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;">Richard Rohr. For example on the Love that removes separation between one person and another as well as from “any other creature.” He continues: “This is something that we can embrace originally at a primal and then deeper levels of consciousness. Children already enjoy this unity at a pre-rational level, and mystics later enjoy it consciously at a trans-rational and universal level.” [ <a href="https://cac.org/we-turn-around-one-thing-2021-05-23/"><span class="s1">https://cac.org/we-turn-around-one-thing-2021-05-23/</span></a> ]</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jUFe-dP0HrU/YLYlW0R8zpI/AAAAAAAAM5c/9DYoLhKY-_kckirMIAICNu1UvHCXPdRlQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1189/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-21%2Bat%2B7.58.10%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="892" data-original-width="1189" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jUFe-dP0HrU/YLYlW0R8zpI/AAAAAAAAM5c/9DYoLhKY-_kckirMIAICNu1UvHCXPdRlQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-05-21%2Bat%2B7.58.10%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-42577359470116647862021-04-24T09:52:00.001-04:002021-04-24T09:52:52.005-04:00This Snowflake Spring<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFHUdtFmQL0/YIQbnGRBNZI/AAAAAAAAMlQ/20KX7L8-7pIa53YLIoOWQnoeV-sjwo1cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1392/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.17.44%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1392" height="429" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HFHUdtFmQL0/YIQbnGRBNZI/AAAAAAAAMlQ/20KX7L8-7pIa53YLIoOWQnoeV-sjwo1cgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h429/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.17.44%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica;"><span style="font-size: large;">Gift of Spring: This capacity to trust in life's renewal. Spring brings reassurance, perhaps most powerfully, through the defining integrity of the ephemeral. Like when our being thrills with the beauty shown in the litter of spent blooms, when we realize the rebirth that’s carried in pollen dust, carried home in spring’s spiraling winds, the spring-cast seeding soon enough to be washed into our mother earth. Throughout this, this full cycle, we all are held—if we but believe it—by our eternal home, the One.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oSN0XvxXOqI/YIQbmosNmFI/AAAAAAAAMlI/oiEe2iNUiGc_zPxAKfqD04VRm72ntEroQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1391/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.16.48%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1391" height="268" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oSN0XvxXOqI/YIQbmosNmFI/AAAAAAAAMlI/oiEe2iNUiGc_zPxAKfqD04VRm72ntEroQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h268/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.16.48%2BAM.png" width="400" /></span></a></p><p class="p3" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">This unique transcendent snowflake ever kissing, dissolving, transforming on the porous covering of heartbeat.</span></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ssVs_NGQkPc/YIQbkf9EoXI/AAAAAAAAMk8/CVtQx5kg6ooPQTCsgMfhAah-peb1L2XxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1394/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B2.06.20%2BPM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="928" data-original-width="1394" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ssVs_NGQkPc/YIQbkf9EoXI/AAAAAAAAMk8/CVtQx5kg6ooPQTCsgMfhAah-peb1L2XxwCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h213/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B2.06.20%2BPM.png" width="320" /></a></span></p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><p style="text-align: left;">The “eternal-now” flows in this and every manifestation. It’s especially poignant in light’s fleeting snapshot: this Beauty. Each instance names the Name, variously called by all incarnations of<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Presence: Nature, Peace, Joy…the one Love, of Whom we all belong.</p></span><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">It’s in t<span class="s1" style="background-color: white;">his, in each instance, in the unique transcendent spring-snowflake ever kissing, dissolving, transforming on the porous covering of heartbeat.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SkqZ13ulw6U/YIQbkiWxLCI/AAAAAAAAMlA/oisr7wq6LegnwMmtnF0-z04QJIJKPQQUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1324/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.11.20%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="934" data-original-width="1324" height="283" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SkqZ13ulw6U/YIQbkiWxLCI/AAAAAAAAMlA/oisr7wq6LegnwMmtnF0-z04QJIJKPQQUwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h283/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.11.20%2BAM.png" width="400" /></span></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">The ever-changing appearance of form, the almost illusion of any separation from the Creator, in the resonant “Be!” the Real that’s present in every particle of breath, in every sign throughout creation. This.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="s1" style="background-color: white;">This: </span>The curious inhabiting of transient place, limitless space, ambivalent time, inarticulable knowing, the indwelling simultaneously moving here/there.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pnxEmdz8Jdw/YIQbpH6C8KI/AAAAAAAAMlY/6tCkLi5Idm4VFqKpV6CKfthfBAMZjf_hACLcBGAsYHQ/s1243/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-24%2Bat%2B7.56.33%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="931" data-original-width="1243" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pnxEmdz8Jdw/YIQbpH6C8KI/AAAAAAAAMlY/6tCkLi5Idm4VFqKpV6CKfthfBAMZjf_hACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-24%2Bat%2B7.56.33%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></p><p class="p5" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Gleaning from recent readings: </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">In his chapter on T.S. Eliot’s <i>Four Quartets</i>, James Olney hints at opportunity in the potentially disconcerting ephemerality of spring with its push toward the Source that gives the ultimate order:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-skP35DwpcXI/YIQbm07F2JI/AAAAAAAAMlM/gmE1oSsBGAQpL10qHtrnOoUNHw7AhCrSQCLcBGAsYHQ/s928/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.20.03%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: helvetica; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="928" data-original-width="614" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-skP35DwpcXI/YIQbm07F2JI/AAAAAAAAMlM/gmE1oSsBGAQpL10qHtrnOoUNHw7AhCrSQCLcBGAsYHQ/w265-h400/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.20.03%2BAM.png" width="265" /></span></a></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“…experience per se, at least so far as humans are concerned, until given formal ordering and completion in the art work, until given the satisfaction of a new life in structural design, is void of meaning; and that design or pattern is the thing which, relating part to part and part to whole and implying an end in the beginning and middle, demonstrates significance in otherwise meaningless experience. But pattern is not discovered by us—mere details and parts, after all, of the whole design of life—-within experience. Instead we, insofar as we are artists, create the pattern and impose it on experience. Art formalizes experience; form implies an end and an intention, and so a meaning…” (<i>Metaphors of Self: The Meaning of Autobiography</i>, p. 270) </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Richard Rohr in <i>Hope Against Darkness</i> offers a text of Spring, pointing to its wild exuberance:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“The word <i>enthusiasm</i> (<i>en-theos</i> in Greek) means ‘filled with God.’ I’m not encouraging mindless enthusiasm, but the enthusiasm that is based on intelligence and wisdom and that great gift of hope. Hope is a participation in the very life of God. This hope has nothing to do with circumstances or things going well. It can even thrive in adversity and trial. True faith, which always includes hope and love—is a predisposition to yes.” p. 52</span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">From the concluding lines of <i>al-Baqarah</i>, a foundation for unity, for hope even in the disintegrating swirl of diverse blossoms that appear so fragile, that seem to be fading, losing the effervescence:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“The Messenger believes in what was sent down to him from his Lord, as do the believers. Each believes in God, His angels, His Books, and His messengers. ‘We make no distinction between any of His messengers.’ And they say, ‘We hear and obey. Thy forgiveness, our Lord! And unto Thee is the journey’s end.’ God tasks no soul beyond its capacity. . .” (<i>The Study Qur’an</i>, Trans. Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Caner K. Dagli, Maria Massi Dakake, Joseph E.B. Lumbard, and Mohammed Rustom;<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>2: 235-236; pp. 124-125)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DGAIo38qHeM/YIQblfmadtI/AAAAAAAAMlE/5F8zRxiBWFU1G9bTkK8PXgsU80FHSe4cQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1395/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.14.58%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="930" data-original-width="1395" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DGAIo38qHeM/YIQblfmadtI/AAAAAAAAMlE/5F8zRxiBWFU1G9bTkK8PXgsU80FHSe4cQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-04-23%2Bat%2B9.14.58%2BAM.png" width="640" /></span></a></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-78121769417060489362021-02-07T10:22:00.002-05:002021-02-07T10:22:58.818-05:00 Thisness. Just Now.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iWA_Klq2sbU/YCADrDrmdKI/AAAAAAAAL3E/sSqH73DEhywwCfa2vRY_ZAEY7EU0g0WAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1356/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B10.06.08%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="903" data-original-width="1356" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iWA_Klq2sbU/YCADrDrmdKI/AAAAAAAAL3E/sSqH73DEhywwCfa2vRY_ZAEY7EU0g0WAQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B10.06.08%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">Photo taken Sunday, February 7, 2021</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In the next to last page of her next to last chapter in <i>The Body of God: An Ecological Theology</i>, Sallie McFague eloquently synthesizes her work:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span></span></p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“In conclusion, let us briefly recall how each of these forms of the incarnation radicalizes divine immanence and transcendence. We suggested earlier that when we contemplate the wonders of evolutionary history in both its smallest and its greatest dimensions, through a microscope or a telescope, what we grasp is a concrete experience of awesomeness that comes as close as may be humanly possible to experiencing immanental transcendence or transcendent immanence Suddenly to see some aspect of creation naked, as it were, in its elemental beauty, its thereness and suchness, stripped of all conventional categories and names and uses, is an experience of transcendence and immanence inextricably joined. This possibility is before us in each and every piece and part of creation: it is the wonder at the world that young children have and that poets and artists retain It is to experience the ordinary <i>as </i>extraordinary. This is experiencing the world as God’s body, the ordinariness of all bodies contained within and empowered by the divine.” (p. 194)</span></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RtITlMtiGKI/YCADq1Qz-JI/AAAAAAAAL28/zpuxiH7eh54038SanSGI48HPYtfdBf9qACLcBGAsYHQ/s1255/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B9.55.17%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="1255" height="482" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RtITlMtiGKI/YCADq1Qz-JI/AAAAAAAAL28/zpuxiH7eh54038SanSGI48HPYtfdBf9qACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h482/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B9.55.17%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">McFague then opens her final chapter with lines from e.e. cummings including:</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></i></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">how should tasting touching hearing seeing</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">breathing any—lifted from the no</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">of all nothing—human merely being</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">doubt unimaginable You?</span></i></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><i></i><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">(now the ears of my ears awake and</span></i></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">now the eyes of my eyes are opened)</span></i></p></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b2R7kTw0i-U/YCADrAyql2I/AAAAAAAAL3A/rjU-pUECbAw_Lh5WoIyx6ZPlbgO5meWwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1259/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B10.04.53%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="942" data-original-width="1259" height="478" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b2R7kTw0i-U/YCADrAyql2I/AAAAAAAAL3A/rjU-pUECbAw_Lh5WoIyx6ZPlbgO5meWwwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h478/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B10.04.53%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3xyAf5DnRu0/YCADr5gR21I/AAAAAAAAL3I/hxLElHpEW7E121XYBKt5zEWaMhwlyuh9ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1356/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B9.59.28%2BAM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="1356" height="354" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3xyAf5DnRu0/YCADr5gR21I/AAAAAAAAL3I/hxLElHpEW7E121XYBKt5zEWaMhwlyuh9ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h354/Screen%2BShot%2B2021-02-07%2Bat%2B9.59.28%2BAM.png" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></i></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129551066165115330.post-59474411157481129592021-01-10T10:58:00.000-05:002021-01-10T10:58:45.204-05:00Path-Maker Breaking Stones<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xs8JDZO89w8/X_sfvSp9V5I/AAAAAAAALkw/o0Biw7T3VXAnpVHzpTXfUcpXSC_xEhHWgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0047.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xs8JDZO89w8/X_sfvSp9V5I/AAAAAAAALkw/o0Biw7T3VXAnpVHzpTXfUcpXSC_xEhHWgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/_DSC0047.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #741b47;">"We make the road by walking," photo, January 9, 2021</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">The primary offering of a mystical text, in my experience, comes in the uniquely personal breaking open of the divine, often only as an elusive whiff at the edge of the articulate, a breeze that dares one to go beyond frozen thought patterns, to venture past traditions that violate the sanctity of freedom. And almost paradoxically, this freedom conjoins with unity, as Rabindranath Tagore told in his Nobel Prize Acceptance Speech: “We must discover the most profound unity, the spiritual unity between the different races…… He who sees all beings as himself, who realises all beings as himself, knows Truth.” This focuses the heart of </span><i style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">Gitanjali</i><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">, the force that Coleman Barks seeks to liberate and preserve.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">The beckoning pathway forms in glimpsing, in tasting the mystery that remains mysterious while also flavoring the everyday with a texture of life beyond. With this expectation, I looked forward to Fons Vitae’s publication of Coleman Barks’ “translation/version” of Tagore’s </span><i style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">Gitanjali (Song Offerings)</i><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">. Having often found support in “making the road by walking” through Barks’ versions of Jalaluddin Rumi (which he fashioned from English translations by Arberry, Nicholson, and others), how would Barks enhance the vitality in Tagore’s own English translation from his native Bengali in the work which led to Tagore’s Nobel Prize award?</span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In addition to the 103 songs comprising <i>Gitanjali, </i>Barks includes four additional poems from Tagore’s work, <i>The Crescent Moon</i>, and Barks also gives us a dozen pages of his own commentary and notes. I’d like an additional hundred pages of Barks’ commentary, and still I find that the concentrated material contributes by showing the involvement of W.B. Yates, Ezra Pound, and others as well as pointing to connections with Ghandi and Kabir.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;"> </span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">Barks begins, “Rabindranath Tagore is one of the great universal mystics.” Again, to me, the role of the mystic and thus of mystical text features access to the holy, so that the individual breathes the unique essence that purifies, inspires, and vitalizes, so that he or she moves forward on the pathway “made by walking” (e.g., Antonio Machado, in </span><i style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">Campos de Castilla,</i><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;"> Proverbios y Cantares, #29) and bridges “these daft twin brothers, life and death” (from Tagore’s #58, p. 76). Barks’ version, just cited, shows the light touch, which serves as a little wake-up invitation, in part through the addition of “daft” to Tagore’s English translation which reads: “the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, dancing over the wide world…” (p. 149 in Visva-Bharati/UBS Publication of </span><i style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">Gitanjali</i><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;">). Barks also features, in the next line, “the storm” in a way that moves me differently from Tagore’s “tempest.”</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s not that one translation/version is better than the other but that a force may be invoked to join the dance, to broker the mystical encounter. In <i>Gitanjali, </i>Tagore offers a departure from conventional religion. For example, number 11 opens:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads!</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with all doors shut?</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">and where the path-maker is breaking stones…” </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> (p. 23 in Visva-Bharati/UBS)</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Barks’ version goes:</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"></span></p><blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">“Give up this fumbling with beads, this chanting<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>in the dark, shut temple.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">… A mason</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>is breaking and laying stone for a path.”</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mhrx70lVZyM/X_sft7-QLCI/AAAAAAAALko/cv6VmUQwO3EHCUjK1TJaViZ6BEgSr2SgACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0052.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mhrx70lVZyM/X_sft7-QLCI/AAAAAAAALko/cv6VmUQwO3EHCUjK1TJaViZ6BEgSr2SgACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h266/_DSC0052.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>In number 102, Tagore, with beautiful respect for the individual’s responsibility and authority for path-making, tells of people who demand “Tell me all your meanings” and he responds, “‘Ah, who knows what they mean!’ They smile and go away in utter scorn./ And you sit there smiling.” (p. 253 in Visva-Bharati/UBS)</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">Barks’ version of the middle part of #102 offers, “A secret part of you flows out of me.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;">For me, the chance for a bit more of this secret is the offering from the publication of <i>What Wants to Come Through Me Now</i>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GVegMvpYxDU/X_sfuZHc0CI/AAAAAAAALks/GBUqFYBH-a03qXHhXB1K5vyIgZ8VDh4lwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/_DSC0054.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1506" data-original-width="2048" height="470" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GVegMvpYxDU/X_sfuZHc0CI/AAAAAAAALks/GBUqFYBH-a03qXHhXB1K5vyIgZ8VDh4lwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h470/_DSC0054.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p>DocHorseTaleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04912189561461452588noreply@blogger.com0