All posts tagged: Surrender

Flinging Fistfuls of Perfection

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Poetry

I had a moment, very recently in fact, to which you might be able to relate, when I was looking up into the starry sky and thinking: why not…? Because it wouldn’t even be a violation would it? Statistically speaking, I mean. There’s so many of you… It’s like a goo goo cluster up there, right? Couldn’t there be some kind of unexpected gravitational perturbation? Like a universal sloshing effect where just one of you […]

Disarmament (Part 5) (of 5)

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Christ / Creative / Fiction

This is the fifth and final chapter of this short foray into fiction.  Here is a link to the first for those who may wish to start at the beginning.  We’ll return to our normally scheduled programming shortly, which as you may well have surmised, means I have no idea what comes next.  Thank you so much for reading… * * * * * Thinking there was a distinction between what was Love and what […]

Disarmament (Part 4)

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Christ / Creative / Fiction

This is Part 4 of 5.  One more to go…  Part 1 is here, if you wish to start at the beginning. * * * * * He must have gone for help, the little junco, because when I awoke there were two of them.  One on my side of the window, inspecting the sill– making those erratic steps that come in packs of four or five– and the other one outside, moving only its […]

Disarmament (Part 3)

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Christ / Fiction

This is part 3 of a short fictional series.  So far the posts are all in order…  So far… * * * * * They’d told me about the wire probably six months ago.  The jumper wire.  How it grew within us from the anode to the cathode like a clever root of ivy.  The fuse of a self. A short circuit. It was a strange trick: cutting eternity out of the equation.  Without access […]

Creation of the New (a.k.a. Muck-Wading)

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Course Ideas

Several posts I read this week raised a similar question about the New: what would it look like to you?  What would it feel like?  Who would we be?  I wrote in one response that it seemed to me we would trust one another and all that is around us— meaning the heart of the world itself—in a very deep way.  Then I went out and lived the type of week that made my musings […]

Ditching Progress

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Course Ideas

The sleek apparatus we call progress has failed us.  The signs are all around, if we but dare heed them.  I’m very clear, for instance, that the curdling of country lanes into frost-heaved mogul courses should be a bygone phenomenon.  You shouldn’t be forced to drink the day’s first cup of coffee while your kidneys are undergoing paratrooper training.  Similarly, had progress been successful, tests of the Emergency Broadcast System would have been moot by […]

Any Way They Can

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Poetry

I can’t work like this, I muttered. (I get emotional sometimes around beings of the most radiant candor– the ones who tell you like it is without even moving their lips, who shatter whole lifetimes of log-jammed feelings with a kind of glimmering eye thing and an emanating peace that sneaks up on you like a heated seat, a peace that feels as though it’s backstopped by a battalion of compassionate mountain lions who keep […]

Clouds, Shaken

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Poetry

The distance, receding. The sky so full of feathers, it’s obvious the gods tore open the clouds, shook them out over the land, and tossed their empty skins in a pile by the river. We’re back in the Dreamtime. The cold has come alive, the sky become an arctic fire, her sparks fluttering in a swirling dizzy of ballerina embers, and the hawk’s vision is still again, flooding my skull, impaling my every thought, studying my […]

I Love Me Some Treatises

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Christ / Course Ideas

I love me some Treatises1. Mmmm-mm! I love me some Jesus breakin’ it down, makin’ that holy road clear. I love me some Truth expo-zishuns! I love me some brotherly tutelage, some way pointin’, some little bing-bang dose of reality checkin’. I do, I do, I do– I do love me some Treat-sies… * * * * * 1In the second book of A Course of Love there are four Treatises, the first of which is entitled […]

The Function of Fir Trees

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Poetry

A line of fir trees have taken up watch, wooden and resolute, their tips a Gaussian congregation of navy black steeples hung upon a night sky so clear and cold you remember what it’s like to open your door and venture out into an endless, moaning whistle that has frozen into place. The trees– they are like loaded questions, sentries of the borealis pantomiming secrets you can guess at if you pay attention to the way their […]