All posts tagged: Jesus

What I Believe and Why, Part 6

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Christ / Course Ideas

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] I want to close this series by stating that I believe Love, and expressions of Love, are all that truly exist. When I say that expressions of Love truly exist, I mean that they endure, they are timeless in a sense, they add unto the eternal fabric of being, they open pathways to new modes of being, and they enrich all aspects of being simultaneously. […]

What I Believe and Why, Part 5

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Course Ideas / Reflections

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] When I was a boy who needed to be in nearly continuous motion on long summer days, lest I become bored and try to rappel off the porch using a clothesline, or hitch the family dog to my bicycle so we could pretend we lived in a Jack London novel, I went (briefly) to a summer camp about thirty miles east of Birmingham. I was dropped off […]

Navigating to Joy

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Course Ideas

Things that appear to be so under one set of conditions, are often found to be quite different under another.  It is for this reason that most of our conclusions formed historically, in the context of separation consciousness, are erroneous.  What’s remarkable about the experience of life is that we can be completely incorrect about ultimate reality, and have a very real and vivid experience of our own false conclusions up to and even through […]

On Seeing, and Seeing

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Course Ideas / Reflections

It is in my response to the world that I discover the thoughts most active within me, and it is quite often a humbling experience.  The movement stretches and pulls and teases to the surface residual uncertainties and doubt.  I have taken in reams and reams of information over the years intended to set me (and all of us) free, which my Undersecretary of Actual Motivations has taken under advisement, and accepted with a begrudging […]

After the Memories

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Christ / Course Ideas

Our pain is bound up in our memories.  We don’t see what’s in front of us, we just see strange reenactments of our past.  It’s not really our past even, just the things we concluded from our past.  Our conclusions travel with us wherever we go.  This is what Jesus calls learning.  It’s our loyalty to all the stuff we made up.  We keep these little statues woven to the inside of our coats to remind […]

No. I Am Not.

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Poetry

Obviously I am not a Christian, but Jesus is my companion. More than that, even. We were bound together in darkness, in a moment we both chose without resistance. The ropes encircling us are sacred. We are each other’s atrium and ventricle. We live in the same house. We love the same woman. We lay together on a raft sometimes, continuing our passage across the sea to visit the birth of life. At night, when I’m […]

The Haunting

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Christ / Poetry

The conclusion can no longer be avoided: I’m being haunted by that weightless certainty from which no one recovers. Each day there’s at least one point in time that lingers, staring back at me, eyes level, while waving the wind through the narrow pass between us– unimpeded. The wind is whistling, and the machine won’t read my ticket. Something ten thousand feet down is yawning and long after I’m gone its baby rocks will float to […]

Rising Seas

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Christ

Something is happening but I can’t see what it is, because the day sky is an impenetrable scattering of color, and the night sky is too deep to see the bottom.  The moon isn’t a reliable reference either, because it’s just one point, and clearly an outlier.  You can’t leverage it at all.  Though the particulars are being worked out, I still take comfort in this vague arrival– in its presence– whatever it is. I […]

Paper Vision and a Turnaround

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Christ / Poetry

A cardboard tube can make all the difference, and I’ll tell you how. Walking through a flavor of solitude in which I find myself sometimes, covering my face to ward off the trace of distant putrefaction, and squinting into the heat to see if my suspicion is correct about the horizon stockpiling behind its dusty curvature all the sad carcasses not fortunate enough to receive a proper burial– I’m wheezing in the fumes of my […]

The Waiting Room

comments 48
Poetry

For a while now I’ve been tip-toeing gingerly around this little tear in the fabric of my whole world and everything I’ve ever known or questioned or waved to from afar or shouted at or outsmarted or dreamed of lassoing with real jute rope or fallen in love with or skipped rocks across or retreated from or tripped over. Every time I ask Hafiz about cashing in what’s left of my heart for whatever it’ll […]