Thinking,
as I read the Bible, that God seems to always be asking, "What have you
done for me lately?" Two responses
to this:
1. There
is always the example of the good thief.
At the last minute, what have you done for me lately can be the act of
contrition, of love of God.
2. God is
always steadfast Himself. If He never
lets us down, why should we ever let Him down?
I
have often thought that we "sacrifice to idols" these days. It is clear who and what are the idols, I am
less clear about how we sacrifice. Does
this mean working all the time to get more money? i.e., sacrificing time that could be spent in
our relationship with God and our brothers and sisters, or does it mean,
simply, placing our money and time (our sacrifice) on the altar of our material
idols?
Had
another dream of Peter before I left Saffron Walden. Then I was thinking about M. on the way up
here. Why is it that I don't let go of
these thoughts? One answer is that I
really am afraid to grow old and die, and desperately wish I had not passed
those days. Perhaps I am somehow trying
to stop time. But if I had it all back
again, what would I do? What more do I
want of M. than what I have? (I can't
think of what, except her undying affection, but I would never give or want to
give up Cathy, so I can't really think it is M. I want so much as just a time
in my life when everything was new and held promise, even though every day was
not always good itself.)
With
Peter it's probably the same idea. What
do I want with him, nothing much more than with M.: the undying affection. Saying those two words again, "undying
affection," makes me think a bit more what it is I miss or lack or want:
that undying friendship and companionship of love, to never be separated from
what the heart once desired and found its home in; to be always in a state of
relationship rather than coming or going through it. I suppose that is what is so important, so
good about marriage, the constancy of relationship. In that sense, the lifelong relationship of
marriage really does mirror God's constant love for us.
My
heart at one time was with M. and with Peter in as strong a way as possible,
and now they are both gone, like a part of me missing. As I had in my dream the other night when I
met up with M. (I think I have had one dream about each of them), I wanted to
know what happened: not to rekindle anything, just to figure it out, learn more
about myself, see what parts of me were out there, which were taken, rejected,
beautiful, ugly; how it all worked.
Then,
as I drove up here, I also was thinking about Cathy, and thinking that if
marriage is as close to a God/human relationship as we have here on earth, then
I certainly have a long way to go! I
don't always feel I know God or Cathy.
Time for me to work on that, while I can, get to know her better and
perhaps I will get to know God better.
Have
greatly enjoyed this weekend on Coleridge.
We are in the places Coleridge lived!
Word has gotten around about the American. I have been quite impressed by Bill Scammel
and David Lindley's abilities to explain the poems, but, even more so, their
ability to recite bits and pieces of poems, as if the poems really meant
something!
The
land here has reminded me just a bit of Idaho, though there is much more
water. The towns and sheep, stone walls
and mountains/hills have also had me thinking more than once that I was in
Switzerland.
The
birds are singing, it is a cloudy morning, mists surround the peaks of nearby
Skiddaw, on which there was new snow yesterday.
Very green. Here at Higham Hall
there are lawns in the front overlooking the lake far below. Yesterday the ground was spongy from all the
water. It could be like Como or like
Flintridge, overlooking beautiful scenery in the distance.
Stopped
in Grasmere on the way up. Beautiful
small village, home of Dove Cottage which I walked through. It is something to be where Wordsworth held
court almost 200 years ago in the aftermath of the French Revolution. STC
is very approachable, likeable fellow - but for his almost total abandonment of
his wife and children. Once again, it
seems there is the tendency of genius to place more importance on one's genius
than families and loved ones.
My
last point this morning: Life keeps getting more and more complicated. There is more and more information and each
generation knows more than the preceding generation. There must be a time when, very old, simple
information is forgotten and must be rediscovered. (I like to think that's what my poems
are!) The example that comes to mind is
that when the heritage people were redoing the Statue of Liberty, they had to
come to places in Europe to find craftsmen to do some of the work. The old skills had been lost in the US. 8:48 a.m.
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