Slowness is a vital ingredient, in my case at least, in encouraging me along the path I wish to follow.
My 26 year old son is clearly a perceptive fellow and he hit the nail on the head when describing his father as “a funny old monk”.
A while back I found myself disturbed that a blogger could crusade in favor of violence and dissension and against ecumenism.
If we seek reality, I am told that we look in the wrong direction by obsessing over the human condition. I think that is right.
I wonder if this is what it felt like during the phoney war in 1939? A period of almost surrealistic calm before the horrors of world War II really began.
There is nothing more sobering than a great deal of time spent in a hospital with the critically ill. Nothing more rewarding either.
It is finished – yes I think I know just what the poor fellow meant.
Nor multicultural, nor multi gender, nor am I trans….and, odd to relate nor am I a bigot or a racist.
I had a curious sensation of fading, being absorbed into the background, while walking along a country lane in glorious winter sunshine.
Can or should you remain in a state or place of “silence” or must or ought you return to the world?