I have no idea where I got this picture but I love it. But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body. … Continue reading Levity.
Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment’s surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existedWhich is not to be found in our obituariesThe Wasteland, TS Eliot. I have a hard time writing about faith. I grew up Baptist, a pastor’s … Continue reading This is the way the world ends.
The Tempest. J.W. Waterhouse / 1916 How do we learn to be still? To allow people the grace to ebb and flow around us without reacting to their emotional whirlpools, their tempests, or their doldrums? Don’t look at me — I have no idea. I am a reactor. I become a tempest in response to … Continue reading This wave.
On the heels of the lighthearted post I wrote last night, I’ve realized that I really must become more serious. More grounded. Less flighty and superficial. I know, I know — it’s a tall order. There really is so little going on in my head. What I’m doing right now is called “procrastination.” I’ve got … Continue reading But I don’t want to.
Edward Hopper Time present and time pastAre both perhaps present in time futureAnd time future contained in time past.If all time is eternally presentAll time is unredeemable.What might have been is an abstractionRemaining a perpetual possibilityOnly in a world of speculation.T.S. Eliot, Burnt Norton. Those who say, “It is better to have loved and lost … Continue reading Tell me again how God is good.
Come, take my hand. What’s done cannot be undone.Lady Macbeth. Ophelia, Waterhouse. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” In grade school I wanted to be an actress, until my mom spent several panicked hours lecturing me on the odds against me ever becoming famous, the inability to support oneself on the … Continue reading Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.
Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.William Shakespeare Gretchen Whitmer is quite the polarizing figure, to say the least. Loved — maybe? — by her risk-averse constituents and loathed by the sane ones. She is the queen of her fiefdom, the bureaucratic überKaren. Many are the reasons to dislike … Continue reading Shiny.
You let the sand slip through your fingers. It is warm and dry. It makes an unmistakable rasping sound as it pools at your feet. The sun is warm, the shade beneath the ironwood is cool. The birds are riotous in the midday heat. Something races through the chaparral, rattling the dry brush. This is … Continue reading I’ll save myself.
You go about the waking world holding it together. Presenting your best face. The workaholic. The stay at home mom. The perfect wife. The perfect Christian. The reformed addict. And then you’re here. Ostensibly anonymous. Words uttered without the threat of scrutiny. Without filter. (Or filtered through the lens of what you believe makes one … Continue reading Je suis Dorian.
My oldest and I were discussing the Ancient Greeks, as one does with a 16 year old on the way home from school, and she mentioned something a classmate of hers said in their Socratic discussion. “Grief is the perseverance of love.” To my embarrassment — and her alarm — I choked back a sob. … Continue reading Grief is the perseverance of love.