A wise not-understanding

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Why not then continue to look upon it all as a child would, as were looking at something unfamiliar, out of the depths of your own world, from the vastness of your own solitude, which is itself work and status and vocation? Why should you want to give up a child’s wise not-understanding in exchange for defensiveness and scorn, since not understanding is, after all, a way of being alone, whereas defensiveness and scorn are a participation in precisely what, by these means, you want to separate yourself from.

Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Being fully, honestly, here

Episcopal Priest Robert Farrer Capon warns “We spend a long time wishing we were elsewhere and otherwise“. We are like the character in the movie Postcards from the Edge who sends a card home from vacation,  “Having a wonderful time. Wish I were here”

Frederic Brussat, Spiritual Literacy

photo coillte.ie

The intersection of two worlds

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It is so easy to miss the tiny symbols. Finding them is quite different from the business of trying to hatch up big symbolic experiences. It is recognition, not pursuit, of meaning — recognition of the sacramental, of the intersection of the two worlds, breaking through unsought because one is attending.

Helen Luke, Jungian Therapist, Such Stuff as Dreams are Made On

photo tamorlan

Busy

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Of all ridiculous things the most ridiculous seems to me, to be busy

— to be someone who is brisk about his food and his work.

Søren Kierkegaard 1813 – 1855, Danish Philosopher

photo kanko

Sunday Quote: Still Water

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On the 150th anniversary of his birth:

We can make our minds so like still water

that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images,

and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life, because of our quiet.

W.B. Yeats, The Celtic Twilight, Faerie and Folklore

photo miguel virkkunen carvalho

Early morning walk

abbey river

I am thinking, or trying to think, about all the imponderables for which we have
no answers, yet endless interest all the range of our lives,

and it’s good for the head no doubt
to undertake such meditation;

Mystery, after all, is God’s other name, and deserves our  considerations surely.

But, but – excuse me now, please;
it’s morning, heavenly bright,
and my irrepressible heart begs me to hurry on into the next exquisite moment.

Mary Oliver, Trying to Be Thoughtful in the First Brights of Dawn