Thursday, January 22, 2009

January 21

Abudnance. I've had much in my life. It has been rich, filled with good friends, surprising betrayals, wonderful experiences and times when things were bleak, joy and heartbreak. And I've loved it all. It continues to this day, where I have so much I almost don't know what to do with it.

It's strange how right now, at the beginning of this process, everything seems to be a problem, every day has a positive and negative, and the negative looms large. I have so much, but how much of it do I want? How much is deliberate choice and building of my life, and how much accretion simply through living and being me?

Part of the Abremelin Process, in my mind, is a shedding of that which does not matter, a certain removal of attachment to things that are not necessary. I have at least 2 boxes of stuff that is probably no longer necessary in my basement. I have books from my grandmother, binoculars from my grandfather, wedding crap that I've kept for 10 years and never used. I've got furniture at a friends house.

It all has meaning, but it's all stuff I'll never want or use. What do I do with it? How much memory do I need, of where I'm from, of what I came from?

Psalm 3

Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me.

Many there be which say of my soul, There is no help for him in God. Selah.

But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.

I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. Selah.

I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me.

I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about.

Arise, O LORD; save me, O my God: for thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly.

Salvation belongeth unto the LORD: thy blessing is upon thy people. Selah.


Rufus Opus said...

One of my favorite things when I was a kid were my grandfather's Binolux Binoculars. I'll never forget the smell of the inside of the leather-bound case. I looked at everything on the summer visits to the grandparents' house through those things, and I wonder sometimes whether I'm still 7 years old and looking through them at myself.

Abundance. Yes. Thank you.

Juliana said...

"how much memory do I need..."

Lovely, Scott. Very poetic, and so true. Lovems you... very clever priest man.