In case you haven't heard, I've moved. I've moved to California, and I've moved over to this blog for my primary posting. While some of longer writing will still appear here from time to time, daily life by the bay will be shared with a Monk on the Road.
"I think that the dying pray at the last not
"please," but "thank you," as a guest thanks his host at
the door. Falling from airplanes the people are crying thank you, thank you,
all down the air; and the cold carriages draw up for them on the rocks.
Divinity is not playful. The universe was not made in jest but in solemn
incomprehensible earnest. By a power that is unfathomably secret, and holy, and
fleet. There is nothing to be done about it, but ignore it, or see. And then
you walk fearlessly, eating what you must, growing wherever you can, like the
monk on the road who knows precisely how vulnerable he is, who takes no comfort
among death-forgetting men, and who carries his vision of vastness and might
around in his tunic like a live coal which neither burns nor warms him, but
with which he will not part." --Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
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