Great writing and truth (perhaps they are the same thing) have the same effect – to stop me in my tracks and make me fully present in the moment. Fully present in the world, yes, but somehow, at the same time, transcending that, “fully present” with no need for any other description – FULLY present.
The moment, the sensation, slips away too quickly, but leaves behind some indelible mark that somehow, when put together with all the others, writes the story. By way of example, today’s reading from Howard Thurman, Deep Is The Hunger:
“’No one ever wins a fight.’ This suggests that there is always some other way, or does it mean that man can always choose the weapon he shall use? Not to fight at all is to choose a weapon by which one fights. Perhaps the authentic moral statute of a man is determined by his choice of weapons which he uses in his fight against the adversary. Of all weapons, love is the most deadly and devastating, and few there be who date trust their fate in its hands.”
I so love that – “…the authentic moral stature of a man is determined by his choice of weapons which he uses in his fight….” This at one time acknowledges the “battle,” that we each have a role in it, and that our “choice of weapons” has import.
It occurs to me... 