Monday, February 6, 2023

Traced by the Sun on the Fishpond of Our Wakefulness.

I normally forbid everyone from taking my photo, but here's L's photo of me on yesterday's hike|



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Had dinner with my brother-in-law and his wife this past Friday night at the very silly and very shitty Clyde's Lodge, they booked the stuffed animal room not to spite me but because they simply forgot who I am, though I know things are sideways in the world when they agreed we are all fucked seventeen ways to death instead of rolling their eyes when I said we are all fucked seventeen ways to death like they have for the past twenty years, so maybe we're not doomed after all, laugh
You can't see from a photo how the clear elmers glue works as a medium, no one sees these in person but me, but 2023 Feb 6





HEAD OF ORPHEUS

Timothy Donnelly

When it was time for the suffering to end, we powered down
  and sat on the steps as if waiting for a chariot
drawn by a loss for words. If only the mind were made to reflect
  the world more completely, as if we agreed to it, we would be free

of so many difficulties—the path ahead of us miraculously
  wrinkleless, cleared of fallen things. What we saw or heard or felt
would be an echo of what was, a duplicate of the present
  willow traced by the sun on the fishpond of our wakefulness.

Easier said than done! Turns out the friction
  between what’s real and my take on it might be the battery
that keeps me awake to begin with, and I hadn’t stopped to consider
  what happens when we sleep—all those fudgy distortions

and embellishments tricked in gold. This only goes to show
  how scatterbrained hope makes me, how poorly we navigate
when we don’t look back to balance what’s ahead of us
  against what’s behind—fair analogue to what’s outside us versus in.

You have less to say at this pivot point than I imagined, or maybe
  you’re just keeping it all to yourself for now, but know,
as I go on detangling these lines from the invisible, it’s always you
  I’m reaching out for, even more so now I can’t see where you’ve gone.

2 comments:

  1. today i came across The Communards - Don't Leave Me This Way (with Sarah Jane Morris) at YouTube and played it several times

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RHBAd5YUR8

    the piano player of the communards became a church of england priest - wikipedia tells us

    From 1991 to 1994 he studied for a BA in theology at King's College London. While at university, Coles became a Roman Catholic and remained so for the next ten years before returning to Anglicanism in 2001.

    he has written Lives of the Improbable Saints and Legends of the Improbable Saints

    among the many things he tweets about - @RevRichardColes - are improbable stories of saints on their saints day - he also posts photos of plates of food and animals in fields

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  2. here are passages used as epigraphs for a new book The Tao of Liberation: Exploring the Ecology of Transformation

    We stand at a critical moment in Earth’s history, a time when humanity must choose its future. As the world becomes increasingly interdependent and fragile, the future at once holds great peril and great promise.. . . The choice is ours: form a global partnership to care for Earth and one another or risk the destruction of ourselves and the diversity of life…. We must decide to live with a sense of universal responsibility, identifying ourselves with the whole Earth community as well as our local communities. (The Earth Charter)

    By what name will our children and our children’s children call our time? Will they speak in anger and frustration of the time of the Great Unraveling . . . or will they look back in joyful celebration on the noble time of the Great Turning, when their forebears turned crisis into opportunity, embraced the higher-order potential of their human nature, learned to live in creative partnership with one another and the living Earth, and brought forth a new era of human possibility? (David Korten)

    We are not lacking in the dynamic forces needed to create the future.We live immersed in a sea of energy beyond all comprehension. But this energy, in an ultimate sense, is ours not by domination but by invocation. (Thomas Berry)

    ReplyDelete