Friday, June 10, 2016

10/06/2016



H,
Well, on that note I could not agree with you more. There is a sick vulnerability you feel around the things and places and, above all that, the people that you love. I can relate to all that more now than Esther is finally here. Her eyes are these whirlpools of innocence and wonder. How can I bear if she ever has a broken heart? How do I cope with the fact that she is breaking mine by just being here and beautiful? There is a rage in being a parent. A certain and overwhelming need to protect and preserve. Yet, we cannot do that in any full way. We are limited and we are small. There are a thousand dangers in every second and we have only two hands and two feet.

Is there a more tragic bout of helplessness than this? The inherent failure we will have in trying to protect others when we cannot even protect ourselves from that very limiting thought of thoughts? It is a humbling thing and it should be. All the other things we have talked about over the week end in this idea that cripples our rising souls: we are not the hero of even our own story.

In the end all we can do is deny and disobey but we have a whole level of experience that is still a mystery to us. The idea of God may have been made up, if you believe so, to fill in the blanks of this despair. Yet, the reality of God does something else. It says to us the thing we do not really want to hear: there is a level of control beyond our fleeting sense of self. We sometimes and then eventually and maybe always hit the limit of what we can do. There is a myth that we will find to be real of a being beyond all limits. We are helpless in the eternal sense and He is endless. There is no other sense but the eternal. Camus told us decades ago that the limit of life makes it absurd. He was right. Without the weight of the eternal, the reasons for life make no sense.
And all these things, all these speculations on life and love and weight and helplessness do not take us any closer. This is a thing you experience. The life in God is to be lived. The Rubicon is crossed only in true surrender. True surrender is to be wise enough to know the very limits that make you question everything. And to finally believe there is an answer to every fear and every tear.

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