"Yeah, hi, Pat. This is Sue. I can't come in today because there's thunderstorms forecast and it's raining and it's making my dog shake so I have to stay home with him."
But it should be :)
Just a cup of cold water
Smashed into my face.
The zealous servant served me,
Leaving bits of glass
And blood and water
Gushing from my mouth.
Zeal without love
Is the devil’s way.
“I have a definite feeling that if you want to feel the aroma of Christianity, you must copy the rose. The rose irresistibly draws people to itself and the scent remains with them. Even so, the aroma of Christianity is subtler even than that of the rose and should, therefore, be imparted in an even quieter and more imperceptible manner, if possible”I don't know if any of this makes any sense. I haven't been sleeping very well the last several nights. I had an interesting spiritual experience in my bed the other night which I'm trying to get settled in my mind and heart before I blog about it. And so if this post is more convoluted and nonsensical than usual, blame it on lack of sleep :)
Francis' starting place was utter truth. His prayer for nights on end was simply: "Who are you, O God? And who am I?" He repeated it without ceasing, and ... he knew that he was radically unfinished and that he always would be. As he charted his own conversion to the moment when he could embrace an ugly and smelly leper, so his journey to truth began when he could accept the leper part of himself. He spent much of the rest of his life not hiding or disguising that truth, but actually seeming to advertise it. This deep acceptance of his own limitations and capacity for evil had none of the destructiveness and self-loathing that we often find in ourselves. He only rejoiced in the possibility and promise of their redemption.
Francis' reading of the gospel is of utmost relevance today. His focus and emphasis is the same as Jesus'. His life was an enacted parable, an audio-visual aid to gospel freedom. It gives us the perspective by whch to see as Jesus did: the view from the bottom. He insists by every facet of his life that we can only see rightly from a dis-established position. He wanted to be poor first of all simply because Jesus was poor. But he also knew that the biblical promises were made to the poor, that the gospel could be preached only to the poor because they alone had the freedom to hear it without distorting it for their own purposes. He wanted to have nothing to protect except the love which made all else useless. "Love is not loved! Love is not loved!" he used to sigh.
What a charming letter and what a surprise. Enough of that Grandpa bullshit - my name is Andrew as every small child up to 100 plus people call me that.
Don't know what Anne - my present wife - would be to you if any. Probably be referred as a cock relation. Anyway I'm off to have lunch with her in a few minutes. We get along fine although we do not live together. A good marriage as we live in separate suburbs. I presume that a perfect marriage would be when both parties live in separate continents.
Kylie [his daughter with Anne] is a very special lady. She and I should be going to Sydney for the week end on the 19th as my nephew's son is celebrating his 21st. His name is also Andrew. I can't go as one of my ex lovers will be here from 15th Oct to 25th on a visit from the Isle of Man. So Kylie will represent me in Sydney.
Like you I have music most times, perhaps not the same variety but it's a matter of one's choice. Am doing the second year of musicology at Monash this year [he would have been 73 at the time of writing].
We should arrange to meet to see how much we have in common, as I also find life a ball. What about lunch on Sun 27th Oct? I can pick you up at your place if you want transport and bring you here. My phone is xxx xxxx and I would love to meet you.
As the Zen masters say, "When you eat, eat; when you walk, walk." Living in the present moment as fully as possible helps satisfy the itch to monitor yourself and still be yourself. As in theater, so in life — the true artists are those who are so fully possessed by what they are doing that they have no time to watch themselves. When they forget to be possessed in this way and give into the temptation to observe their wonderful performance, then they usually stumble.Practice today the virtue of self-forgetfulness, which is at the heart of making love — being totally engaged in what you are doing or in another person. Those who make love daily by self-forgetfulness find ectasy in celebrating the love they have been making day by day
Creative work is play; it is free speculation using the materials of one's chosen form. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves. Artists play with color and space. Musicians play with sound and silence. Eros plays with lovers. Gods play with the universe. Children play with everything they can get their hands on.
... There is a German words, funktionslust, which means the pleasure of doing, of producing an effect, as distinct from the pleasure of attaining the effect or having something. Creativity exists in the searching even more than in the finding or being found. We take pleasure in energetic repetition, practice, ritual. As play, the act is its own destination. The focus is on process, not product. Play is intrinsically satisfying. It is not conditioned on anything else. Play, creativity, art, spontaneity, all these experiences are their own rewards and are blocked when we perform for reward or punishment, profit or loss. For this reason, "Man cannot live by bread alone."
... The most potent muse of all is our own inner child. The poet, musician, artist continues throughout life to contact this child, this self who still knows how to play. "Whosoever," said Jesus, "does not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child shall not enter into it." Improvisation, as playful experiment, is the recovery in each of us of the savage mind, our original child-mind. Psychoanalysts sometimes speak of this recovery as "regression in the service of the ego." But it's not in the service of the ego, it's in the service of the total Self.
Full-blown artisitic creativity takes place when a trained and skilled grown-up is able to tap the source of clear, unbroken play-consciousness of the small child within. This consciousness has a particular feel and flow we instinctively recognize. It is "like tossing a ball on swift-flowing water: moment-to-moment nonstop flow."
They don’t even get milk at first. They get colostrum, which precedes the milk flow. It assists the immune system and acts as a laxative to clear out the digestive tract. It’s sort of a detoxifier. Some people are so messed up that it’s exactly an analogy of what they need before they can receive milk. Detox, droppers, milk — in that order.
"And our Lord's next showing was a supreme spiritual pleasure in my soul. In this pleasure I was filled with eternal certainty, strongly anchored and without any fear. This feeling was so joyful to me and so full of goodness that I felt completely peaceful, easy and at rest, as though there were nothing on earth that could hurt me. This only lasted for a while, and then my feeling was reversed and I was left oppressed, weary of myself, and so disgusted with my life that I could hardly bear to live. There was no ease or comfort for my feelings but faith, hope and love, and these I had in reality, but I could not feel them in my heart. And immediately after this God again gave me the spiritual rest and comfort, certainty and pleasure so joyful and so powerful that no fear, no sorrow, no bodily or spiritual pain that one might suffer could have distressed me. And then the sorrow was revealed to my consciousness again, and first one, then the other, several times, I suppose about twenty times. And in the moments of joy I might have said with Paul, 'Nothing shall separate me from the love of Christ.' And in the moments of sorrow I might have said with Saint Peter, 'Lord save me, I perish.'Julian's vision was seriously long-range and epic. I don't know yet exactly what she believed or what her visions entailed about hell, but I do know that she believed it served a higher purpose than the lowly vision we have of it as a toxic dumping ground, and that whatever its existence we can rest in the comfort that God is good, and powerful, and creative, and is able to work out this whole existence thing with the best damn ending of any story ever written - and all maybe without violating our free will (I still don't know what I think about the whole free will thing. I guess it depends on which age we're talking about. While I think it exists in this age in terms of making a choice to follow after God - whether known as such or depending on what sheepfold you're in - I wonder if there will come a time when that card is no longer available to be played? Of course, the standard idea when we think of this is hell - that the card is no longer available, and if you're on the wrong side of the fence then you stay there forever. There are worlds of possibilities apart from this one.
"This vision was shown to me, as I understand, to teach me that it is necessary for everybody to have such experiences, sometimes to be strengthened, sometimes to falter and be left by himself. God wishes us to know that he safely protects us in both joy and sorrow equally, and he loves us as much in sorrow as in joy. And to benefit his soul, a man is sometimes left to himself, though not because of sin; for at this time I did not deserve by sinnin to be left alone, neither did I deserve the feeling of bliss. But God gives joy generously when he so wishes, and sometimes allows us sorrow; and both come from love. So it is God's will that we should hold on to gladness with all our might, for bliss lasts eternally, and pain passes and shall vanish completely. Therefore it is not God's will that we should be guided by feelings of pain, grieving and mourning over them, but should quickly pass beyond them and remain in eternal joy, which is God almighty, who loves and protects us."