what you are

We think — the mind cannot grasp such enormity.

There are 2 trillion galaxies in the observable universe, each containing billions of stars. (Phys.org)

More likely, the mind is that enormity.

There is nothing to grasp.

That which is looking is that which is being looked through by that which is, itself, that which sees no-other.

Pray for one another.

Look alive!

One of the most fundamental questions in astronomy is that of just how many galaxies the Universe contains. The Hubble Deep Field images, captured in the mid 1990s, gave the first real insight into this. Myriad faint galaxies were revealed, and it was estimated that the observable Universe contains about 100 billion galaxies. Now, an international team, led by Christopher Conselice from the University of Nottingham, UK, have shown that this figure is at least ten times too low.  
https://phys.org/news/2016-10-universe-ten-galaxies-previously-thought.html

Take the next step.

See the surround.

Love what you are.

nothing else seems to make sense

Prayer today.

Prayer tomorrow.

For one another.

a poem is being written

The rest of the article will wait upon Cardinal’s line.

“Creation is a poem.” (—Ernesto Cardinal, Cosmic Canticle)

Lead quote in Richard  Kearney’s God making, An essay in theopoetic imagination

ich kann dich hören

Watched "American Son" in solitude of a Friday Evening while, downstairs, conversation goes on in Wohnküche.

Dem ist nichts mehr hinzuzufügen.

one human sadness

Thank you to all who are, or have been, saints!

“To be a saint is to will the one thing.” Soren Kierkegaard

“Ultimately there is only one human sadness: that of not being a saint.” Leon Bloy (French philosopher who helped bring Jacques and Raissa Maritain to the faith)

“The saints are the only really happy people on earth.” Fr. John Hardon, S.J.

“My key to heaven is that I loved Jesus in the night." Mother Teresa

“The great saint may be said to mix all his thoughts with thanks. All goods look better when they look like gifts.” St. Francis of Assisi

meditation beads

On street of Camden Maine, between Congo church and Walgreens, I stop Tibetan monk, ask him to bless string of green 108 beads just acquired from sales table where sand mandala is near completion.

He takes them in his hands and chants over them for four minutes. Gives them back. I thank him. We walk on.

The Geshe tells Saskia to pray for her recently departed dog after talk on impermanence at shambhala center in Rockland.

I think president trump is angling for deep violent divisions in the country.

I’ll need the beads.

disclosure

‎I know the name of the whistleblower. I  encourage Republicans  to out him. His name is Emeth (אֶמֶת) Alétheia (ἀλήθεια), aka, truth truth. It will be for them a risky and dangerous precedent bringing him to light.

sprechen sie wohl

We are what we say.

Man acts as though he were the shaper and master of language, while in fact language remains the master of man.
(--Martin Heidegger)

What are you being said?

that's it

Washington Nationals

win

World Series...

(time to sleep)

sit down, take a load off

And on the eighth day, after all the preliminary creations were in place and considered very good, God created the pièce de résistance — game day of game 7 of the World Series!

O holy preparations!

someone I loved to listen facilitate the law

Quote:

What they have now is different, and some would say poorer, but to Pam it is in some ways purer. Everything superfluous has gone away — all posturing and ego; the petty resentments common to all marriages, leaving a connection deeper and truer than language.

“It feels like I love him more now,” she said one day this fall.

In the park, the wind was rising, the silvery sun no longer burning through the clouds. Sirens passed, above the chirp of crickets, as Pam asked Charles if it was time to go and find the car. No, came his unspoken answer, as he kept on walking; he was not ready yet to stop.

They turned back into the park together. She put her arm in his as they headed uphill.

As his Alzheimer’s looms, Charles and Pam Ogletree take one last walk in love, By Jenna Russell Boston Globe Staff,Updated October 27, 2019, 2:01 a.m.

this poem by robert creeley

A Full Cup

  Age knows little other than its own complaints.

Times past are not to be recovered ever.

The old man and woman are left to themselves.

  When I was young, there seemed little time.

I hurried from day to day as if pursued.

Each thing I discovered, another came to possess me.

  Love I could ask no questions of, it was nothing

I ever anticipated, ever thought would be mine.

Even now I wonder if it will escape me.

  What I did, I did finally because I had to,

whether from need of my own or that of others.

It is finally impossible to live and work only for pay.

  I do not know where I’ve come from or where I am going.

Life is like a river, a river without beginning or end.

It’s been my company all my life, its wetness, its insistent movement.

The only wisdom I have is what someone must have told me,

neither to take nor to give more than can be simply managed.

A full cup carried from the well.



(—from: "The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley, 1975–2005" by Robert Creeley. Scribd)

no sunday evening practice tonight

Stay home.

Sit well.

Pray for one another.

Good health!

...

Then, of course, there’s this:

The idea that language and thought are intertwined is ancient. Plato argued against sophist thinkers such as Gorgias of Leontini, who held that the physical world cannot be experienced except through language; this made the question of truth dependent on aesthetic preferences or functional consequences. Plato held instead that the world consisted of eternal ideas and that language should reflect these ideas as accurately as possible.[10] Following Plato, St. Augustine, for example, held the view that language was merely labels applied to already existing concepts. This view remained prevalent throughout the Middle Ages.[11] Roger Bacon held the opinion that language was but a veil covering up eternal truths, hiding them from human experience. For Immanuel Kant, language was but one of several tools used by humans to experience the world. (—from, Linguistic Relativity, Wikipedia) 

what has happened will, what will happen has

time goes nowhere

looking both ways, it steps

into itself at once

coughing before sleep

There’s nothing wrong with being awake middle-night.

Hot tea with honey. The woman fears pneumonia.

For me, it doesn’t matter. Astros beat Nationals in game three. Game 4 later in D.C.

The Honorable Elijah Cummings was lauded and prayed for in Baltimore funeral service Friday. A reminder to us.

Time narrows for antithetical dishonorable obliquely referenced in passing.

I no longer care if I live or die. Pressing hands together, eye to eye.

Gassho

Coming and going

Gassho

nomine domini

Not yet.

Not yet.

Nōn nōbīs, Domine, nōn nōbīs, sed nōminī tuō dā glōriam (KJV: ps 115)

paradox and confusion guard truth

“The foolish reject what they see and not what they think; the wise reject what they think and not what they see.” (Huang Po, d.850)

The thing about being sick is the expectation that it will break.

Just like that.

It will come.

Haiku

    (In praise of learning)

if water takes shape

whatever carries it holds

each drop as itself

d’accord

Il pluie

La nuit

L’eau

Simplement

when am I done

What does it mean to say I love God?

lo amo Dio
         (a haiku) 

when all  

is said 

and done -- 

you finish me

Perhaps it is that time when nothing else remains.