I died in Israel
I died in Gaza
I died in Ukraine
I died in Russia
I died in the arms of human stupidity
You’re wrong if you say Hamas is evil, Israel good; or you say Israel is evil, Hamas good.
Hear me out.
No one is evil or good.
Everyone is merely mistaken.
It’s the annoying insight of ancient religious/philosophical thinking — that we are more often mistaken and deluded than accurately clear and spot on the mark.
Delusion says you’re bad I’m good or I’m bad you’re good.
The consequences of such thinking are bullets bombs and bullshit.
The non-deluded point of view looks like this:
- It is morning
- Make coffee or tea
- Spread bread with butter or honey
- Feel the surrounding presence coming/going
- See yes in everything — and MU as nothing other
- When cat jumps up, say “cat”
- When dog sidles near, say “dog”Learn what it is we must learn.
Those blessèd structures, plot and rhyme—
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?
I hear the noise of my own voice:
The painter’s vision is not a lens,
it trembles to caress the light.
But sometimes everything I write
with the threadbare art of my eye
seems a snapshot,
lurid, rapid, garish, grouped,
heightened from life,
yet paralyzed by fact.
Yet why not say what happened?
Pray for the grace of accuracy
Vermeer gave to the sun’s illumination
stealing like the tide across a map
to his girl solid with yearning.
We are poor passing facts,
warned by that to give
each figure in the photograph
his living name.
(Robert Lowell, “Epilogue” from Day by Day. Copyright © 1977)
Thought has no mass weight
Travels with no measured speed
Is there while still here
Neither Christianity nor Islam nor Judaism can survive their ineffectual rituals of political grandstanding and cultural exclusion.
The only hope remaining is an emerging consciousness wherein radical presencing and nondiscriminating inclusion breakthrough and suffuse our dull and dismal understanding of what existence and being-in-the-world really is.
It is time for such a mutation.
We must become one and whole and see what is our duty, our nature, reconstituted.
Beyond what could be said is the silence that obviates the need for anything to be said.
But silence is nowhere to be found.
Anything anyone says about God should be greeted by "Thank you, now go away."
In prelude to the non-echoing clear space of unaccountable muted utterance, one looks about seeing what is there without commentary, criticism, or clarification.
The language of God, it is said, is silence. All else is bad translation.
Aquinas tells us that “angels are always announcers of divine silence.” Silence is surely one of the deep ways into the human heart and into divine mysteries, and it is integral to many forms of meditation in both the east and the west. But Aquinas gives credit to angels for bringing silence alive.
He is also being somewhat paradoxical in calling angels “announcers of divine silence.” Isn’t announcing always an act of speaking? Not necessarily, Aquinas is saying—not when it comes to the divine silence, which is so deep and speaks to us deep to deep, depth to depth, heart to heart.
But Aquinas also says that the angels don’t stop with the announcing; they also assist us to understand and interpret the divine silence derived from the divine mystery. It is necessary after something is announced to someone that they understand the announcement. In addition, therefore, because we can understand by the intellect the things that are announced to us through the angels, they themselves by the brightness of their own light help our intellect grasp the secrets of God.