On our furthest pond, I saw a white shape sitting yesterday. I know her name - though she may not call herself by it, I suppose. My daughter called her Clara. She left last year. She has come back though, to find a mate. None of us must clip each other's wings.
In one way or the other, I think about this everyday: what is the alternative to the state? This version of "fulfilling the law" is still deeply radical; it's a way of leaving. This is from the 11th hr Hopi Prophecy:
"Know the River has its destination.
The elders say, we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river,
keep ours eyes open and our heads above the water.
And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate."
Sounds almost Biblical. And I will quote you back to yourself, since I wake up most days lately with this singing in my head:
I'm so glad to have this beautiful Hopi prophesy in the thread. Makes me think of the "Nomos of the pneuma of Zoe".. the law of the spirit of life, which says something to me about flow, and about relinquishing control.
That River song is my favorite among the many good ones in the Benjamin Blower sonic array.
Now this image of head above water, stammer and sputter and laughter in spite of, or because of, it all with who I see here in the tread and bob of the swim is tied to that song. Kiss the feet of those Hopi spirits! And thanks, D and J.
Thank you for this lovely wondering. It has set me up well to walk in to my day in a kinder, gentler fashion. Last night I was talking with my son about the difference it can make to view the world as a place of abundance rather than one of scarcity. Not as a fact to be argued over but as a stance from which to proceed, a foundation on which to build. If we begin from the assumption that there are enough resources in the world for all beings to be content and well, how do we live our lives in order to make that so? What does that assumption teach us about how to live our lives well? Your explorations this morning seem to speak to a similar impulse. What would it mean to live in a world where any act of kindness held no expectation of reciprocity, where the only assumption we would make of any other human being is that they act with love and kindness? Thank you for a kind and loving start to my day.
Yes to this vision. The question that it leads me to is something like this: how to hold onto that whole hearted anticipation of kindness while the other hand reaches through the experience of so much entrenched violence? The older I get the more deeply truthful both hands feel - and the dissonance between them is the generative bit - but even so, it's quite a posture to live out.
💖I’m moving in the river of all of these loving comments responding to deep truths you are articulating so clearly, David. Late to this thread, but very much coming to the table.
Love is a gift not an invoice.
On our furthest pond, I saw a white shape sitting yesterday. I know her name - though she may not call herself by it, I suppose. My daughter called her Clara. She left last year. She has come back though, to find a mate. None of us must clip each other's wings.
This reminds me of some notes Johnny Cash wrote late in life. He said that God seemed to just let him come and go as he pleased.
In one way or the other, I think about this everyday: what is the alternative to the state? This version of "fulfilling the law" is still deeply radical; it's a way of leaving. This is from the 11th hr Hopi Prophecy:
"Know the River has its destination.
The elders say, we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river,
keep ours eyes open and our heads above the water.
And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate."
Sounds almost Biblical. And I will quote you back to yourself, since I wake up most days lately with this singing in my head:
There is a River
and it sings
and it runs
Beneath All Things...
I'm so glad to have this beautiful Hopi prophesy in the thread. Makes me think of the "Nomos of the pneuma of Zoe".. the law of the spirit of life, which says something to me about flow, and about relinquishing control.
That River song is my favorite among the many good ones in the Benjamin Blower sonic array.
Now this image of head above water, stammer and sputter and laughter in spite of, or because of, it all with who I see here in the tread and bob of the swim is tied to that song. Kiss the feet of those Hopi spirits! And thanks, D and J.
Sundance: I can't swim!
Butch: (laughing) Are you crazy? The fall will probably kill ya!"
[WHHOOOOAH...jump...]
Yes!
Thank you for this lovely wondering. It has set me up well to walk in to my day in a kinder, gentler fashion. Last night I was talking with my son about the difference it can make to view the world as a place of abundance rather than one of scarcity. Not as a fact to be argued over but as a stance from which to proceed, a foundation on which to build. If we begin from the assumption that there are enough resources in the world for all beings to be content and well, how do we live our lives in order to make that so? What does that assumption teach us about how to live our lives well? Your explorations this morning seem to speak to a similar impulse. What would it mean to live in a world where any act of kindness held no expectation of reciprocity, where the only assumption we would make of any other human being is that they act with love and kindness? Thank you for a kind and loving start to my day.
Yes to this vision. The question that it leads me to is something like this: how to hold onto that whole hearted anticipation of kindness while the other hand reaches through the experience of so much entrenched violence? The older I get the more deeply truthful both hands feel - and the dissonance between them is the generative bit - but even so, it's quite a posture to live out.
Thank you for these words. Crucial thoughts and ways of living to ponder.
You are not speaking into the void, dear friend, but into hearts, carried in creaturely bodies.
So let's be clear. You and I owe one another nothing, and that is something.
You have my love, and I am confident that I have yours.
Thank you Jez. Straight to my heart. And yes you do.
💖I’m moving in the river of all of these loving comments responding to deep truths you are articulating so clearly, David. Late to this thread, but very much coming to the table.