tbird 31 jan 1999

whose eyes light the stars above me
whose breath fills my laughter
whose hair is damp with my tears

Goddess who purrs
who dances life
who speaks in thunder
who weaves the world

Remind me to hear You.
Allow me to learn.
Grant me patience
a serene and loving heart
calm above the thunderpeaks
bright with stars and movement

From A Stone for a Pillow, by Madeline l'Engle

If we look at the makeup of the word disaster, dis-aster, we see dis, which means separation, and aster, which means star. So dis-aster is separation from the stars. Such separation is disaster indeed. When we are separated from the stars, the sea, each other, we are in danger of being separated from God.

From The Brothers K, by David James Duncan

"But you hear me. And I feel you. I mean you, the who or whatever you are, being or nonbeing, that somehow comes to us and somehow consoles us. I don't know your name. I don't understand you. I don't know how to address you. I don't like people who do. But it's you alone, I begin to feel, who sends me....this new hope and this stupid gratitude....So:

O thing that consoles.
How clumsily I thank you."

From Hippolytus, Refutationis Omnium Haeresium, ed. L. Dunker, F. Schneidewin (Göttingen, 1859), 5.7, via What Became of God the Mother?: Conflicting Images of God in Early Christianity by Elaine Pagels

From Thee, Father, and through Thee, Mother, the two immortal names, Parents of the divine being, and thou, dweller in heaven, mankind of the mighty name...[may glory be!]


Confess unto me
your inner-most thoughts,
your deepest desires,
your darkest secrets,
your most desperate longings

for, i shall not judge thee,
but embrace thee.

From Illusions, by Richard Bach:

26. And [the Messiah] said unto them, "If a man told God that he wanted most of all to help the suffering world, no matter the price to himself, and God answered and told him what he must do, should the man do as he is told?"

27. "Of course, Master!" cried the many. "It should be pleasure for him to suffer the tortures of hell itself, should God ask it!"

28. "No matter what those tortures, no matter how difficult the task?"

29. "Honor to be hanged, glory to be nailed to a tree and burned, if so be that God has asked," said they.

30. "And what would you do," the Master said unto the multitude, "if God spoke directly to your face and said, 'I COMMAND THAT YOU BE HAPPY IN THE WORLD, AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.' What would you do then?"

31. And the multitude was silent, not a voice, not a sound was heard upon the hillsides, across the valleys where they stood.


When I feel unloveable
I vow with all beings
to hold myself gently
and honor my Divine.

Julian of Norwich

...I am he, the power and goodness of fatherhood; I am he, the wisdom and the lovingness of motherhood...I am he who makes you to love; I am he who makes you to long; I am he, the endless fulfilling of all true desires.

From The Great Goddesses of Egypt by Barbara Lesko

Come, oh Golden One, who feeds on praise,
because the food of her desire is dancing,
who shines on the festival at the time of lighting the lamps,
who is content with the dancing at night.
Come! The procession is in the place of inebriation,
that hall of traveling through the marshes.
Its performance is set,
its order is in effect,
without anything lacking therein.

Isis, the giver of life...
the one who pours out the inundation
That makes all people live and the green plants grow,
who provides divine offerings for the gods,
And invocation-offerings for the Transfigured Onces....
Whe is the Lady of Heaven, Earth, and the Netherworld,
Having brought them into existence through what her heart conceived
and her hands created.

From Six Moon Dance by Sheri S. Tepper

"If you want to know about a Purse fish, you don't beat the fish to death or drain the sea dry. You look at the fish where it is. You study how it swims and what it eats and how it lives. You don't take hold of it, or kill it, you watch it. So, if you want to know who you are, you don't go laying around with a pickax. You try to catch yourself when you're not pushed by anybody or anything and watch yourself. You see what you do, and you figure out why, and you decide how that makes you feel, and how it affects others, and whether it makes you joyful or proud.

It's amazing how many people don't know their own nature, even though they can't do anything with it until they know what it is. How can you move toward joy if you don't know what makes you happy?" Simon shook his head. "Nobody's required to live in pain. We should always try to move toward joy..."

He looked up to meet Mouche's smile, suddenly radiant.

"Oh, Simon," he said, "It's not easy, but you're right. And even the pain lights a road for you, doesn't it? It beckons you to fix it! Like if you know something's hurt, you can try to mend it."

Winston Churchill:

If you're going through hell, keep going.

From Six Moon Dance by Sheri Tepper

A certain mindfulness reminded: Do not say don't be silly. Say, instead, of course, I know, I understand. Do not go too softly. Go strongly, as one who is perilous and brave.

A certain mindfulness said: Do not smell of this world, but of the vast sea, the spaces between the stars.

A certain mindfulness said: do not dance as a woman would dance, as a man would dance, as legs would dance, but as wings would dance, as these two would dance if they were lovers making a promise that would echo among the galaxies.

Do not be bound by gravity, for we will swim weightless within this liquid world. Do not be bound by breath, for we need not breathe, or by thought, for we need not think. Here is only sensation and the need for joy.

We are such glorious stuff we need not carry pain around like a label. Our duty, as living things, is to be sure that pain is not our whole story, for we can choose to be otherwise....we can choose to dance.

From Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers

Lord, teach us to take our hearts and look them in the face, however difficult that may be.

From Selim Hassan's The Sphinx: Its History in Light of Recent Expeditions, (Cairo: Government Press), 1948, pg. 232-234, quoted in a posting to the Egyptologist's Electronic Forum by Jon Bodsworth (24 Nov 2007)

... they are perished also,
Those walls of Thebes, which the Muses built,
But the wall that belongs to me has no fear of war,
It knows not either the ravages of the enemy, or the sobbing;
It rejoices always in feasts and banquets,
And the choruses of the young people, united from all parts.
We hear the flutes, not trumpet of war,
And the blood that waters the earth is of the sacrificial bulls,
Not from the slashed throats of men.
Our ornaments are the festive clothes, not the arms of war,
And our hands hold not the scimitar,
But the fraternal cup of the banquet;
And all night long, while the sacrifices are burning,
We sing hymns to Harmakhis, and our heads
Are decorated with garlands.

The Book of Wisdom Chapter 7, verses 23-30. My sister selected this passage for my grandmother's funeral, and I got to read it.

For in Her is a spirit intelligent, holy, unique,
Manifold, subtle, agile, clear, unstained, certain,
Not baneful, loving the good, keen, unhampered, beneficent, kindly,
Firm, secure, tranquil, all-powerful, all-seeing,
And pervading all spirits, though they be intelligent, pure and very subtle.
For Wisdom is mobile beyond all motion, and She penetrates and pervades all things by reason of her purity.
For She is an aura of the might of God and a pure effusion of the glory of the Almighty; therefore naught that is sullied enters into Her.
For she is the refulgence of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of His goodness.
And She, who is one, can do all things, and renews everything, while Herself enduring;
nd passing into holy souls from age to age,
She produces friends of God and prophets.
For there is naught God loves, be it not one with Wisdom.
For She is fairer than the sun and surpasses every constallation of the stars.
Compared to light she takes precedence, for that, indeed, night supplants, but wickedness prevails not over Wisdom.

Michelangelo Buonarroti, via Adam Shand:

The greater danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.

Ursula K. LeGuin, via Adam Shand:

The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.

The Thunder: Perfect Mind

The complete text is available, but it's not this translation.Unfortunately I have been unable to track down the translator of this particular piece -- any information greatly appreciated!

Sent from the Power,
I have come to those who reflect upon me,
and I have been found among those who seek me.
Look upon me, you who meditate, and hearers, hear.
Whoever is waiting for me, take me into yourselves.
Do not drive me out of your eyes, or out of your voice, or out of your ears.
Observe. Do not forget who I am.

For I am the first, and the last.
I am the honored one, and the scorned.
I am the whore and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin.
I am the mother, the daughter, and every part of both.
I am the barren one who has borne many sons.
I am she whose wedding is great and I have not accepted a husband.
I am the midwife and the childless one,
the easing of my own labor.
I am the bride and the bridegroom
and my husband is my father.
I am the mother of my father,
the sister of my husband;
my husband is my child

My offspring are my own birth,
the source of my power,
what happens to me is their wish.

I am the incomprehensible silence and the memory that will not be forgotten.
I am the voice whose sound is everywhere and the speech that appears in many forms.
I am the utterance of my own name.

From: Andrei Codrescu (andrei@codrescu.com)
To: Tina Bird (tbird@precision-guesswork.com)
Subject: Re: Miracles (NPR 31 Oct 2001)

MIRACLES for Ed Sanders
by Andrei Codrescu (reproduced with permission)

Miracles happen all the time. In fact, they never not happen. To be even half awake is to know that what happens to you could not have happened if only the law of averages was operating, or if Chaos was purely chaotic. This world is ruled by Chaos and Eros, two entities that are not arbitrary. On the contrary, they are blindingly, powerfully sensical, symmetrical, magnetic, besotted with forms, rife with the improbable but inevitable, drenched in glorious necessity. It would be a mistake, however, to think that the operations of Chaos and Eros intend you personally.

To be "drawn somewhere," as most people explain being where they feel that they should be, or to experience the migraine of a quadruple deja-vu in one quarter of an hour, or to find out that friends, movies stars, and your pet, all of which are named "Carl" share the same birthday, is nothing more than the obvious. All those congruences people like to call "fate," are what happens if you move through the world without an ideology or at least a system, borne aloft like a cork on the spumes of Chaos and Eros. The tensions you experience are not personal either, though they certainly feel that way; they are the interplay of the partly centrifugal Chaos meeting head-on the partly centripetal Eros. It's something between them, you're just an exchange switch inside the miracle-making machine.

Now the fact that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer belongs to a human-made order inside the grandeur of the gaming universe, and it partakes only partially of the great forces. There is a sub-world in the flows of necessity, which is the statistical reality most people believe is the only one. This actuarial, measurable, fairly predictable reality tracks the flows of wealth, keeps locks at critical points of the libidinal reservoir, and is generally useful in keeping the tri-partite structure of Law, Church, and Business in reasonable working order. In the interstices between institutions, in the gray areas between different jurisdictions, the wavering borders of incompatible forms, the stuff of Chaos and Eros flows like everywhere else, only (seemingly) a bit slower.

Man did not find herself at the center of the universe coincidentally. Certain men decided that it was impossible to live in a miraculous world, one in which words are deeds, sense is mocked, joy fuels cosmic collapses, and superstition grips everyone with a greedy hand. A world like that, even if inevitable, does nothing for hygeine and the food supply. They decided, quite rightly, to make a series of livable islands right in midst of the raging torrents of the self-propelled universals, and to live on them as if things made sense. These were the 18th century Illuminists, the men we owe democracy and individual rights to. Those highly cherished but artificial concepts do not concern the gods. Their job is miracles, ours is to live decently. The human world is incompatible with the miracle-making universe, which is why we must ignore Chaos, Eros, coincidence, symmetry, beauty without end, and the fireworks of criminal genius, at all times, except between the hours of two and five a.m. in the bloom of our youth. The rest of the time, sadly, we must act as if we live in a cute box.

Gratitude, a poem by LaSara FireFox (reproduced with permission)

Because today
I feel a little bit like a
rough talking
smooth walking
I find time
and take it
to make my prayers
of gratefulness
for blessings
soft and wild
that hit the black floor
vague and flat
like hot rain
on a blue day

Rain falling
from cloudless skies
I juggle blessings
family, beauty, home
keep them up in the air
thank the flow
and tide
that allows me
to grab my dreams with both hands
mad feet still dancing
the rainbow path

Walk in beauty
I walk in beauty
soft and round
I hold the whispers
in my mouth
awaiting growth
until I'm ready
to birth truths
of gratitude

And because today
I feel rough and a little mad
I breath gratitude
The medicine
that keeps sad moments
free of judgement
somber sounds
from running red
with blood
hot and wild

Today I
work harder
offer prayers of gratitude
That makes the world whole.

Pema Chodron

Our wisdom is all mixed up with what we call our neurosis. Our brilliance, our juiciness, our spiciness, is all mixed up with our craziness and our confusion, and therefore it doesn't do any good to try to get rid of our so-called negative aspects, because in that process we also get rid of our basic wonderfulness. We can lead our life so as to become more awake to who we are and what we're doing rather than to change or get rid of who we are or what we're doing. The key is to wake up, to become more alert, more inquisitive and curious about ourselves.

Francois de La Rochefoucald

Almost all our faults are more pardonable than the methods we resort to to hide them.

From the Buddha's Kalama Sutra, via Adam Shand:

Do not be satisfied with hearsay or with tradition or with legendary lore or with what has come down in scriptures or with conjecture, or with logical inference, or with weighing evidence, or with liking for a view after pondering over it, or with someone else's ability, or with the thought 'the monk is our teacher'. When you know in yourselves 'These things are unwholesome' then you should abandon them. When you know in yourselves, 'These things are wholesome, blameless, commended by the wise, and being adopted and put into effect they lead to welfare and happiness,' then you should practice and abide in them.

After another long pause, he turned to me and said, "This is a very important lesson. You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end -- which you can never afford to lose -- with the need for discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be."

Kurt Vonnegut, via Adam Shand:

Strange travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.

from The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz

Richard Feynman, via Adam Shand:

I can live with doubt and uncertainty and not knowing. I think it is much more interesting to live not knowing than to have answers that might be wrong.

Julian of Norwich

Lord, thou knowest what I want, if it be thy will that I have it, and if it be not thy will, good Lord, do not be displeased, for I want nothing which you do not want.

Meister Eckhart (thanks to Adam Shand for tracking down the attribution)

If the only prayer you say in your whole life is "Thank You," it would suffice.

Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

E.E. Cummings, via Adam Shand:

To be nobody-but-myself---in a world that is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else---means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.

Unattributed, sent to me by my beloved Rae

I'm happy to announce that this is a perfect moment. It's a perfect moment for many reasons, but especially because I have been inspired to say a gigantic prayer for all of you. I've been roused to unleash a divinely greedy, apocalyptically healing prayer for each and every one of you -- even those of you who don't believe in the power of prayer. And so I am starting to pray right now to the God of Gods ... the God beyond all Gods ... the Girlfriend of God ... the Teacher of God ... the Goddess who invented God. Dear Goddess, You who never kill but only change: I pray that my exuberant, suave and accidental words will move you to shower ferocious blessings down on everyone who reads this benediction. I pray that you will give them what they don't even know they want -- not just the boons they think they need but everything they've always been afraid to even imagine or ask for. Dear Goddess, You wealthy anarchist burning heaven to the ground: Many of the divine chameleons out there don't even know that their souls will live forever. So please use your blinding magic to help them see that they are all wildly creative geniuses too big for their own personalities. Guide them to realize that they are all completely different from what they think they are and more exciting than they can possibly imagine. Make it illegal, immoral, irrelevant, unpatriotic and totally tasteless for them to be in love with anyone or anything that's no good for them. O Goddess, You who give us so much love and pain mixed together that our morality is always on the verge of collapsing: I beg you to cast a boisterous love spell that will nullify all the dumb ideas, bad decisions and nasty conditioning that have ever cursed the wise and sexy virtuosos out there. Remove, banish, annihilate and laugh into oblivion any jinx that has clung to them, no matter how long they've suffered from it, and even if they've become accustomed or addicted to its ugly companionship. And please conjure an aura of protection around them so that they will receive an early warning if they are ever about to act in such a way as to bring another hex or plague or voodoo into their lives in the future. Dear Goddess, sweet Goddess, You sly universal virus with no fucking opinion: I pray that you will help all the personal growth addicts out there become disciplined enough to go crazy in the name of creation, not destruction. I pray that you will teach them the difference between oppressive self-control and liberating self-control, awaken in them the power to do the half-right thing when it is impossible to do the totally right thing. Arouse the Wild Woman within them -- even if they're men. And please give them bigger, better, more original sins and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems. Dear Goddess, You pregnant slut who scorns all mediocre longing: I pray that you will inspire all the compassionate rascals communing with this prayer to love their enemies just in case their friends turn out to be jerks. Provoke them to throw away or give away all the things they own that encourage them to believe that they are better than anyone else. Show them how much fun it is to brag about what they cannot do and do not have. Most of all, Goddess, brainwash them with your freedom so that they never love their own pain more than anyone else's pain. Dear Goddess, You psychedelic mushroom cloud at the center of all our brains: The curiously divine human beings reading this prayer deserve everything they are yearning for and much, much more. So please bless them with lucid dreams while they are wide awake and solar-energy-operated sex toys that work even in the dark and vacuum cleaners for their magic carpets and a knack for avoiding other people's hells and their very own 900 number so that everyone has to pay to talk to them and a secret admirer who is not a psychotic stalker. Dear Goddess, You fiercely tender, hauntingly reassuring, orgiastically sacred feeling that is even now running through all of our soft, warm animal bodies: I pray that you provide everyone out there with a license to bend and even break all rules, laws and traditions that keep them apart from the things they love. Show them how to purge the wishy-washy wishes that distract them from their daring, dramatic, divine desires. And teach them that they can have anything they want if they'll only ask for it in an unselfish way. And now dear God of Gods, God beyond all Gods, Girlfriend of God, Teacher of God, Goddess who invented God, I bring this prayer to a close, trusting that in these mysterious moments you have begun to change everyone out there in the exact way they've needed to change in order to express their soul's code. Amen. Awomen. And glory halle-fucking-lujah.

From Return to Love, by Marianne Williamson, often attributed to Nelson Mandela, and once again via Adam Shand:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?" Actually, who are you not to be?... As we let our light shine, we consciously give other people permission to do the same. As
we are liberated from our own fears, our presence automatically liberates others.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., via Adam Shand:

Cowardice asks the question, 'Is it safe?' Expediency asks the question, 'Is it politic?' Vanity asks the question, 'Is it popular?' But, conscience asks the question, 'Is it right?' And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but one must take it because one's conscience tells one that it is right.

Barak Obama, via Adam Shand:

One of the things I think the next president has to do is to stop fanning people's fears. If we spend all our time feeding the American people fear and conflict and division, then they become fearful and conflicted and divided. And if we feed them hope and we feed them reason and tolerance, then they will become tolerant and reasonable and hopeful. And that I think is one of the most important things that the next president can do, is try to bring us together, and stop trying to fan the flames of division that have become so standard in our politics in Washington.

Elizabeth Taylor, via Adam Shand:

The problem with people who have no vices is that, generally, you can be sure they're going to have some pretty annoying virtues.

From Perelandra, by C.S. Lewis

The voice that spoke next seemed to be that of Mars, but Ransom was not certain. And who spoke after that, he does not know at all. For in the conversation that followed -- if it can be called a conversation -- though he believes that he himself was sometimes the speaker, he never knew which words were his or another's, or even whether a man or an eldil was talking. The speeches followed one another -- if, indeed, they did not all take place at the same time -- like the parts of a music into which all five of them had entered as instruments or like a wind blowing through five trees that stand together on a hilltop.

"We would not talk of it like that," said the first voice. "The Great Dance does not wait to be perfect until the peoples of the Low Worlds are gathered into it. We speak not of when it will begin. It has begun from before always. There was no time when we did not rejoice before His face as now. The dance which we dance is at the centre and for the dance all things were made. Blessed be He!"

Another said, "Never did He make two things the same; never did He utter one word twice. After earths, not better earths but beasts; after beasts, not better beasts, but spirits. After a falling, not a recovery but a new creation. Out of the new creation, not a third but the mode of change itself is changed forever. Blessed is He!"

And another said, "It is loaded with justice as a tree bows down with fruit. All is righteousness and there is no equality. Not as when stones lie side by side, but as when stones support and are supported in an arch, such is His order; rule and obedience, begetting and bearing, heat glancing down, life growing up. Blessed be He!"

One said, "They who add years to years in lumpish aggregation, or miles to miles and galaxies to galaxies, shall not come near His greatness. The day of the fields of Arbol will fade and the days of Deep Heaven itself are numbered. Not thus is He great. He dwells (all of Him dwells) within the seed of the smallest flower and is not cramped: Deep Heaven is inside Him who is inside the seed and does not distend Him. Blessed be He!"

"The edge of each nature borders on that whereof it contains no shadow or similitude. Of many points one line; of many lines one shape; of many shapes one solid body; of many senses and thoughts one person; of three persons, Himself. As is the circle to the sphere, so are the ancient worlds that needed no redemption to that world wherein He was born and died. As a point to a line, so is that world to the far-off fruits of its redeeming. Blessed be He!"

"Yet the circle is not less round that the sphere, and the sphere is the home and fatherland of circles. Infinite multitudes of circles lie enclosed in every sphere, and if they spoke they would say, For us were spheres created. Let no mouth open to gainsay them. Blessed be He!"

"The peoples of the ancient worlds who never sinned, for whom He never came down, are the peoples for whose sake the Low Worlds were made. For though the healing what was wounded and the straightening what was bent is a new dimension of glory, yet the straight was not made that it might be bent nor the whole that it might be wounded. The ancient peoples are at the centre. Blessed be He!"

"All which is not itself the Great Dance was made in order that He might come down into it. In the Fallen World He prepared for Himself a body and was united with the Dust and made it glorious for ever. This is the end and final cause of all creating, and the sin whereby it came is called Fortunate and the world where this was enacted is the centre of worlds. Blessed be He!"

"The Tree was planted in that world but the fruit has ripened in this. The fountain that sprang with mingled blood and life in the Dark World, flows here with life only. We have passed the first cataracts, and from here onward the stream flows deep and turns in the direction of the sea. This is the Morning Star which He promised to those who conquer; this is the centre of worlds. Till now all has waited. But now the trumpet has sounded and the army is on the move. Blessed be He!"

"Though men or angels rule them, the worlds are for themselves. The waters you have not floated on, the fruit you have not plucked, the caves into which you have not descended and the fire through which your bodies cannot pass, do not await your coming to put on perfection, though they will obey you when you come. Times without number I have circled Arbol while you were not alive, and those times were not desert. Their own voice was in them, not merely a dreaming of the day when you should awake. They also were at the centre. Be comforted, small immortals. You are not the voice that all things utter, nor is there eternal silence in the places where you cannot come. No feet have walked, nor shall, on the ice of Glund; no eye looked up from beneath on the Ring of Lurga, and Iron-plain in Neruval is chaste and empty. Yes it is not for nothing that the gods walk ceaselessly around the fields of Arbol. Blessed be He!"

"That dust itself which is scattered so rare in heaven, whereof all worlds, and the bodies that are not worlds, are made, is at the centre. It waits not till created eyes have seen it or hands handled it, to be in itself a strength and splendour of Maleldil. Only the least part has served, or ever shall, a beast, a man, or a god. But always, and beyond all distances, before they came and after they are gone and where they never come, it is what it is and utters the heart of the Holy One with its own voice. It is farthest from Him of all things, for it has no life, nor sense, nor reason; it is nearest to Him of all things for without intervening soul, as sparks fly out of fire, He utters in each grain of it the unmixed image of His energy. Each grain, if it spoke, would say, I am at the centre; for me all things were made. Let no mouth open to gainsay it. Blessed be He!"

"Each grain is at the centre. The Dust is at the centre. The Worlds are at the centre. The beasts are at the centre. The ancient peoples are there. The race that sinned is there. Tor and Tinidril are there. The gods are there also. Blessed be He!"

"Where Maleldil is, there is the centre. He is in every place. Not some of Him in one place and some in another, but in each place the whole Maleldil, even in the smallness beyond thought. There is no way out of the centre save into the Bent Will which casts itself into the Nowhere. Blessed be He!"

"Each thing was made for Him. He is the centre. Because we are with Him, each of us is at the centre. It is not as in a city of the Darkened World where they say that each must live for all. In His city all things are made for each. When He died in the Wounded World He died not for men, but for each man. If each man had been the only man made, He would have done no less. Each thing, from the single grain of Dust to the strongest eldil, is the end and the final cause of all creation and the mirror in which the beam of His brightness comes to rest and so returns to Him. Blessed be He!"

"In the plan of the Great Dance plans without number interlock, and each movement becomes in its season the breaking into flower of the whole design to which all else had been directed. Thus each is equally at the centre and none are there by being equals, but some by giving place and some by receiving it, the small things by their smallness and the great by their greatness, and all the patterns linked and looped together by the unions of a kneeling with a sceptred love. Blessed be He!"

"He has immeasurable use for each thing that is made, that His love and splendour may flow forth like a strong river which has need of a great watercourse and fills alike the deep pools and the little crannies, that are filled equally and remain unequal; and when it has filled them brim full it flows over and makes new channels. We also have need beyond measure of all that He has made. Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely necessary to you and for your delight I was made. Blessed be He!"

"He has no need of anything that is made. An eldil is not more needful to Him than a grain of the Dust: a peopled world no more needful than a world that is empty: but all needless alike, and what all add to Him is nothing.We also have no need of anything that is made. Love me, my brothers, for I am infinitely superfluous, and your love shall be like His, born neither of your need nor of my deserving, but a plain bounty. Blessed be He!"

"All things are by Him and for Him. He utters Himself also for His own delight and sees that He is good. He is His own begotten and what proceeds from Him is Himself. Blessed be He!"

"All that is made seems planless to the darkened mind, because there are more plans than it looked for. In these seas there are islands where the hairs of the turf are so fine and so closely woven togethre that unless a man looked long at them he would see neither hairs nor weaving at all, but only the same and the flat. So with the Great Dance. Set your eyes on one movement and it will lead you through all patterns and it will seem to you the master movement. But the seeming will be true. Let no mouth open to gainsay it. There seems no plan because it is all plan: there seems no centre because it is all centre. Blessed be He!"

"Yet this seeming also is the end and final cause for which He spreads out Time so long and Heaven so deep; lest if we never met the dark, and the road that leads nowhither, and the question to which no answer is imaginable, we should have in our minds no likeness of the Abyss of the Father, into which if a creature drop down his thoughts for ever he shall hear no echo return to him. Blessed, blessed, blessed be He!"

Last modified 24 Nov 2007