a hairy face in a wide open place, reflecting between trees
Be blessed, David. And dwell in the fullness of the love that so many have for you. Swim around in it until your fingers get all pruney and your lungs give out and you look for the edge with grateful, tired legs. (Though fair warning; you may find no edge at all)
you is kind, you is smart, you is important
the impossibility of fully accounting for oneself is conditioned by the irreducible context of every narrative reconstruction
slavoj zizek, the nieghbor: three inquiries in political theology
the path is made by walking
we are words on a journey
not the inscriptions of settled people
take out a cup
and some bread
and put it in the middle of the table,
and say a prayer and examine yourselves
and then make sure everybody’s rent is paid and there’s food in their fridge and clothes on their backs
and then invite everybody to say ‘yes’ to the resurrected Christ with whatever ‘yes’ they can muster in the
moment and then you take that bread and you dip it in that cup in the ancient/future hope and trust that
there is a new creation bursting forth right here right now and then together taste that new life and
liberation and forgiveness and as you look those people in the eyes gathered around that table from all
walks of life and you see the new humanity, sinners saved by grace, beggars who have found bread
showing the others beggars where they found it
and in that moment
space
place
remind yourselves that
this
is
what
you
believe.
(Source: calesellen)
hardly escaping the limitless machines
that balk his thought and torment his dreams,
the old man goes to his own
small place of peace, a patch of trees
good stories defy summary
redemption remains a vague rumour, and only those possessed of a true light-hearted folly will dare to abandon everything else in order to pursue it
nietzsche was trying to communicate that christianity was crucified on its own cross
running like the ocean to find your shore
what we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence
i can not cause light; the most i can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam. it is possible, in deep space, to sail on solar wind. light, be it particle or wave, has force; you rig a giant sail and go. the secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.
whatever happens, those who have learned to love one another have made their way to the lasting world and will not leave, whatever happens
reality is defined as what is untransformed, and art as the raising up of this reality into its truth
