moving from one place to another tires me, even if it is not physically exhausting.
probably because my soul is so slow, it takes ages to get anywhere, whilst my body can be easily moved my mechanisms.
i feel my soul coming back, returning to me. probably tonight.
here’s to you, my soul, who quicken me to hearing, and seeing, and feeling this wonderful world under the sun.
one of songs of experience (no reference to william blake here). one of the songs i really could not dig when i was, probably, having the experiences mentioned here. i still have them, of course. (translation of the lyrics below)
I am rich – I own all that has ever happened to me.// The hours of happiness rapidly passing, and the slow minutes of longing and waiting./ The boulevards aflame in autumns, and the springs struggling in mud.// The thin slices of bread after the war, and the later – “eat all you want”. The longing for a human touch, and the very experience of love.// Thoughts clean as the fresh snow, and thoughts totally dirty among them. Naked complete honesty versus deception.// This is a heavy burden – so heavy one sometimes forgets they are rich.
Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the LORD, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing. (Joel 2:12-13)
when i think of ash wednesday, i somehow think of funeral rites. the ashes to ashes, and dust to dust. the bit about the flesh having to return to the soil – the earth – the dust – it has been made of, and the spirit returning to god its creator.
and then i think of three things – first: how dust and ashes are the product of deterioration and to be disposed of. how people dislike the dusty shelves and the grit, and the sand between their teeth when the wind blows over the city. how dust is useless.
second: how much of what the ‘progress-oriented’ society – the cars, the things, the gadgets, the stuff – is like the dust that falls, and then the soul is naked and unarmed in the face of whatever comes after death. or how much of what we think we are and can do actually makes no sense, until the wish to achieve and become gives way to simply being who one is.
third: when this state of death is realised, and the doom apparent, there still is hope:
returning to god, the source of mercy and healing, both bodily – fasting and weeping, and spiritually – by mourning and casting away the things we hold precious that are not true.
that moment of awareness of one’s misery and futility of all things, is also the moment of recognition of god’s power and ability to be everything in all things.
and god becomes this in christ. by christ becoming dust because we are dust, we can become christ-like if only we catch on to him – or allow him to catch on to us.
because the mercy and grace of god is made living (and dying) proof in christ’s life, death and resurrection.
the dust we are is precious enough. for christ to come and rescue it not sparing his life.
the dust we are is precious enough to be watered by the holy spirit, and turned into earth for christ to grow into.
the grave, the funeral, is a transition: an opportunity to cast off the redundant, and to enter a new life, a new consciousness, a new order. without this funeral, there is no resurrection, no eternity.
so… demolish the walls of dust, the fields of ashes in your soul and action; allow the mercy and forgiveness of god re-form them into a new life, catch on to the life of christ.
the horsemen (2009). a film about a police inspector solving a series of murders thematically tied to the four horsemen of the apocalipse, only to find out that his own son is one of the said horsemen.
it is a film about this horribly crippled world, and, in a sense, about what happens when people neglect relationships. it is a film about the disease of haste and how the best intentions lead to the most spectacular failures.
it is a film about loss, and jealousy, and desperate decisions. and the thing that when there is a broken relationship, a sacrifice is necessary to set things right.
it is also a film about how important it is to do love, to do relationships, not only promises and endless tomorrows and thens. Read More
Listen to me, all you in distant lands! Pay attention, you who are far away!
The Lord called me before my birth; from within the womb he called me by name. He made my words of judgement as sharp as a sword. He has hidden me in the shadow of his hand. I am like a sharp arrow in his quiver.
3 He said to me, “You are my servant, Israel, and you will bring me glory.”
4 I replied, “But my work seems so useless! I have spent my strength for nothing and to no purpose. Yet I leave it all in the Lord’s hand; I will trust God for my reward.”
5 And now the Lord speaks— the one who formed me in my mother’s womb to be his servant, who commissioned me to bring Israel back to him. The Lord has honoured me, and my God has given me strength. He says, “You will do more than restore the people of Israel to me. I will make you a light to the Gentiles, and you will bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.”
Isaiah 49:1-6
In the 2001 film Attila, the young Attila the Hun is rescued by his uncle, and instantly subject to a questioning, aimed at assessing the young warrior’s knowledge of materials of war.
The following discourse occurs:
Rua: How many layers in a bow?
Attila: Two of wood, two of bone.
Rua: How long must you heat the bow before you string it?
Attila: Until the outer layer sweats.
Rua: You’ve been taught well.
[later]
Rua: Some say it takes months to make a bow. But…it takes 15 years. It starts when the tree is first planted. You cut the wood too soon, the bow lacks strength, too late, it becomes brittle.
Bow, a fine weapon, takes many years to make. And so does every one who is called by the Lord to his service. Just like the warrior chooses the sapling, and watches over it, grooms it and harvests it in the right time, so does the Lord hone his warriors, his arrows to be sent forth in the fullness of time.
From the point of view of the arrow – or bow – the honing and tempering process might seem too long, or too drawn, or totally useless. The prophet Isaiah testifies to this: “But my work seems so useless! I have spent my strength for nothing and to no purpose.” Every one in the church work – or any other relationship – has felt this at some point of development.
So, on the one hand, we have the Lord preparing his warriors. On the other hand we have the warriors seeing no sense in their journey, or not at all times of their journey. Read More
moon in my bed. and i must say again, either her or me. so…her, probaly.
whatever is left of me, crawls in a miserable ball out of the reach of the moon, and listens to the little ginger kitten rioting in the corridor.
after tomorrow, i will go to see my mother. if the roads hold, that is.
Posted by Wordmobi
