My New Mantra

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To be old is a glorious thing when one has not unlearned what it means to begin . . .- Martin Buber

I usually use little PostIt flags to mark passages in books I'm reading. I tried using highlighters for a while, but I was never able to get around the disturbing feeling I was somehow vandalizing the authors work every time I drug that blocky fluorescent sponge across the words which were having such impact on me.

So I use flags instead, and oft times end up with a tome whose edges have gone fuzzy with white and yellow and blue bits of tape waving about, calling "Look here! Look here!".

When I'm done I open up whichever word processor I'm currently favouring and go back through the book, carefully removing the enthusiastic markers for reuse, taking down the notes and quotes I felt added to the wonder in my life.

But I've yet to grab a set of flags out for Buber, and seem to be coming here to store the distilled bits of wisdom flowing out of Meetings.

Don't Curtail My Reality, Man

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Two more bits I want to remember from my slow crawl through Buber's Meetings: . . . "faith" is not a feeling in the soul of man but an entrance into reality, an entrance into the whole reality without reduction and curtailment.

and

Real listening has become rare in our time. It is found most often among workers who are not indeed concerned about the person speaking, as is so often the case with the bourgeois public, but about what he has to say.

UD WIP - Safer In Wool

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Bringing fruit from the blooming

Of dark, hopeful lips;

From a pause,

To a purse,

To a soft airy phrase;

Pushed past rose

In the simplest prose,

A tender disclose

Belying its hue.

Couched in a quirk;

A brief dimpled twitch:

A question,

An answer,

A sweet imposition,

A challenge to leave

Or stay and believe

Lupine intentions

Are safer in wool.

(A raven-like veil

Drawn in a blink

Lifted

Returned)

(Feline intemp'rance

And eight lives to go

Safety forsaken

In order to know)

I liked the idea of the original last two lines of the first stanza, but I just couldn't make the language work with the rhythm.  I'm still not sure I'm sold on the new last line, but it's growing on me.

One of the biggest problems I have coming back to a poem and trying to add to it, as opposed to simply editing what's already there, is attempting to rediscover the patterns and schemes of the original pieces so that the new pieces match.  Today, on this one, I'm failing completely.

"Love Your Neighbor As Yourself"

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"But moral laws bind us together and make it possible to build a society based on the common good. They keep us from honoring the false covenants of greed, celebrity and power that destroy us. These false covenants have a powerful appeal. They offer feelings of strength, status and a false sense of belonging. They tempt us to be God. They tell us the things we want to hear and believe. They appear to make us the center of the universe. But these false covenants, covenants built around exclusive communities of race, gender, class, religion and nation, inevitably carry within them the denigration and abuse of others. These false covenants divide us."- Chris Hedges, The False Idol of Unfettered Capitalism

How Mysterious

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“. . . Mystery is a great challenge it’s an invitation and it’s a wonderful companion, actually . . .” - Dr. Robert Coles, from Speaking of Faith 1/1/09 On my best days I live in mystery. The mystery of hope, love, and grace. The mystery of Christ and the Church. The mystery of I and Thou, and how the dialectic of self and selfless defines and defies every relationship I have.

It is a mystery that fuels all hope of knowing and truth, and yet allows a profoundness and peace even when facts and understanding have changed zip codes and are nowhere to be found.

Everything in my life worth holding is tinted and flavoured with mystery, and I thank Dr. Coles for reminding me of that.

MVD UD - The Knotty Truth

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Gordius was never a just a simple farmer, rather he was one of the point men for a Qabbalistic experiment in raising spiritual consciousness. The Gordian Knot was the physical manifestation of a mathematical expression of social harmony, and the challenge to unravel it was meant to expose those who would dare be leaders to the refined, conscious altering arguments for peaceful coexistence. The closer one came to understanding the mystery of the knot and untying it, the more changed they would be by its formula.

Plato knew about the Qabbalists. He'd uncovered information about their existence and intents during some of his earliest research into Atlantis. He did not trust this ancient order of secret keepers, however, and thought them a danger to the way of life he was trying to help create, so he gave his most promising pupil the task of keeping them at bay.

Aristotle worked on the problem for more than fifteen years, even after philosophical disagreements with his mentor kept him from heading up the Academy upon Plato's death. His most promising solution came after leaving Athens when he was asked to tutor the son of Philip II, King of Macedon.

This is how Alexander the Great was set on the path to Gordius' fabled knot, not to unravel it, claiming the secrets of peace and bearing them into the world, but to destroy it, and spread through force of arms the visions of peripatetics, academics, and hemlock drinkers.

Two years later, in 331 BC, Alexander made a dangerous pilgrimage to the Oasis of Siwa to visit the Oracle of Ammon. Alexander had two questions for the Oracle.

"Have any of my father's assassins escaped unpunished?" he asked first.

"Yes," the Oracle responded. "The chief architect of that treachery lives on undetected and undeterred in a land where your name is yet unknown."

Unsettled, Alexander presented his second question. "Shall I conquer the whole of the world?"

"To conquer the whole of the world one need only untangle Gordius' knot," the Oracle replied.

"Ah!" Alexander shouted victorious. "This thing my hand has already done."

"No," the Oracle answered, explaining the nature of the Qabbalist creation and the consequences of his circumventing their intent.

In the few years that followed, Alexander declared himself a god, fell into debauchery, murdered his best friend, lost the respect of his men, and after more than a decade of leading his armies to victory in battle, died from a mosquito bite.

WIP MVD UD - Safer in Wool

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Bringing fruit from the bloomingOf dark, hopeful lips; From a pause, To a purse, To a soft airy phrase; Pushed past rose In the simplest prose, Granting a glimpse Of enameled desire.

Couched in a quirk; A brief dimpled twitch: A question, An answer, A sweet imposition, A challenge to leave Or stay and believe Lupine intentions Are safer in wool.