I cannot ope mine eyes,
But thou art ready there to catch
My morning-soul and sacrifice:
Then we must needs for that day make a match.
But thou art ready there to catch
My morning-soul and sacrifice:
Then we must needs for that day make a match.
My God, what is a heart?
Silver, or gold, or precious stone,
Or starre, or rainbow, or a part
Of all these things, or all of them in one?
Silver, or gold, or precious stone,
Or starre, or rainbow, or a part
Of all these things, or all of them in one?
My God, what is a heart,
That thou shouldst it so eye, and wooe
Powring upon it all thy art,
As if that thou hadst nothing else to do?
That thou shouldst it so eye, and wooe
Powring upon it all thy art,
As if that thou hadst nothing else to do?
Indeed mans whole estate
Amounts (and richly), to serve thee:
He did not heav’n and earth create,
Yet studies them, not him by whom they be.
Amounts (and richly), to serve thee:
He did not heav’n and earth create,
Yet studies them, not him by whom they be.
Teach me thy love to know;
That this new light, which now I see,
May both the work and workman show:
Then by a sunne-beam I will climbe to thee.
That this new light, which now I see,
May both the work and workman show:
Then by a sunne-beam I will climbe to thee.
---G. Herbert.
After hearing all the shrill voices at university and, more generally, in the country as a whole-both pro and anti-religion, it's so nice to hear a mature conversation about how religion survives despite everything (Start the Week: John Tavener, J. Winterson, Drury,...).
If not religion then the religious and if not that, then the spiritual. JW is fiercely clever and the only point of disagreement with her is about the "invention" of rules/rituals/forms/shapes..as if to say: we can make them up as we go along. I suspect that if one were to accept that they are not entirely man-made, not provisional or a product of the imagination, then we'd be in the territory of religion proper, and that is something that cannot be admitted. Fair enough.
~~~
What light there is hangs in your voice. And it is yours.
Absence and presence is the mark of time; it is how the child first counts time so that time and again we are left wondering. The child sees a breast and thinks: milk! (Rumi). This, it turns out, is not true.
Desire is not aimed at pleasure but strives for a relationship (this was, perhaps, the most profound line from Todorov's book). But pleasure, too, is a way.
~~~
I have a scar on my knee which no-one can see. When I was a child it gushed and spilled darkly. To this day it amazes me that it healed.
When I was slightly older, in another country, I played for the Colts and ran into a pole, slicing my lip, an inch away from tearing one of my faces off. The gash would bruise, the stitches removed, but I don't think I've spoken straight again.
There are many muscles in the human body one was not aware of. Equally, the human soul is full of darkness.
The ability to say "Yes!" is something only the naive and the wise possess. But there is, maybe, no such thing as possession after all. It is 4 o'clock and the sun is dead; my life continues.
The desire to say "yes!" reminds me of a poem by Denise...
Light,
Light, light, light
light.
How one must breathe the light, find the right pace, understand that it can be jolted at any moment. The dark equilibrium of a life is formed by many variables, some known, others unknown.
In Italy even a statue can appear erotic!
If not religion then the religious and if not that, then the spiritual. JW is fiercely clever and the only point of disagreement with her is about the "invention" of rules/rituals/forms/shapes..as if to say: we can make them up as we go along. I suspect that if one were to accept that they are not entirely man-made, not provisional or a product of the imagination, then we'd be in the territory of religion proper, and that is something that cannot be admitted. Fair enough.
~~~
What light there is hangs in your voice. And it is yours.
Absence and presence is the mark of time; it is how the child first counts time so that time and again we are left wondering. The child sees a breast and thinks: milk! (Rumi). This, it turns out, is not true.
Desire is not aimed at pleasure but strives for a relationship (this was, perhaps, the most profound line from Todorov's book). But pleasure, too, is a way.
~~~
I have a scar on my knee which no-one can see. When I was a child it gushed and spilled darkly. To this day it amazes me that it healed.
When I was slightly older, in another country, I played for the Colts and ran into a pole, slicing my lip, an inch away from tearing one of my faces off. The gash would bruise, the stitches removed, but I don't think I've spoken straight again.
There are many muscles in the human body one was not aware of. Equally, the human soul is full of darkness.
The ability to say "Yes!" is something only the naive and the wise possess. But there is, maybe, no such thing as possession after all. It is 4 o'clock and the sun is dead; my life continues.
The desire to say "yes!" reminds me of a poem by Denise...
Light,
Light, light, light
light.
How one must breathe the light, find the right pace, understand that it can be jolted at any moment. The dark equilibrium of a life is formed by many variables, some known, others unknown.
In Italy even a statue can appear erotic!
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