Being, the essence of a spiritual life

 "When we life our eyes from the crowded by-pass to the eternal hills; then, how much the personal and practical things we have to deal with are enriched. What meaning and coherence come into our scattered lives. We mostly spend those lives conjugating three verbs: to Want, to Have, and to Do. Craving, clutching, and fussing, on the material, political, social, emotional, intellectual - even on the religious - plane, we are kept in perpetual unrest; forgetting that none of these verbs have any ultimate significance, except so far as they are transcended by and included in, the fundamental verb, to Be: and that Being, not wanting, having, and doing, is the essence of a spiritual life."

                                                 -  Evelyn Underhill,  Essential Writings

at home, yet a stranger

 I just finished In This House of Brede with an online group - an excellent story! So many characters, so many personalities and lots going on. I remember Diana Rigg being in the film version but don't think I've watched it, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll keep my expectations low, since I can't imagine the whole story fitting into a two-hour or less movie.

I discovered a mostly-done skirt in my fabric stash - it's an olive cotton knit, made up just like my gray knit skirt, and only needed an elastic for the waist. I finished it off, and it's waiting to be ironed. I tried taking a photo, but the right color is so hard to get! 

I've started looking at my gardening books, even though the snow on the ground is still a few inches deep. There was some rain today, which will melt things a little faster. I'm also looking at all the books I own with a critical eye - do I really need you? I have a cookbook with recipes for many pantry type foods, and I noticed a recipe for chocolate yogurt. I bought a gallon of the only pasteurized milk at the store (as opposed to ultra-pasteurized) and made some. It calls for very little sugar, but I have it with a bit of honey. As I was ladling it into the jars, I noticed it looked more chocolate-y at the end than the top. I was stirring it well the whole time, but milky things often stick to the bottom of the pot, and when they do, you don't want to scrape it when you stir in case it may turn up solids which aren't going to dissolve. So I stirred frequently but carefully,and more of the chocolate stayed near the bottom. 

It's Lent.

"To take the ashes is to confess kinship with this world of dust, to declare our readiness to abdicate pretensions to omnipotence. Standing before God in this way, I profess that I am not God. I admit the chasm that separates me from him. I accept the uncomfortable otherness of God. He is what I am not, yet my being bears his mark. I crave a completion no created thing can give. I walk this earth as yearning incarnate. I am at home, yet a stranger, homesick for a homeland I recall but have not seen."

-  Bishop Erik Varden, from Magnificat, February 2026

resisting the machine

Spring is definitely in the air! It's warmer, but not terribly; but the birds are singing, the daylight lasts longer, the paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are showing grass! Everything feels like it's coming alive. Under the surface, of course, except for the birds - they're the ones who show it.

I am almost finished reading Defending Middle Earth by Patrick Curry. I picked it up when it was dropped off at the library. I do not exaggerate when I say that not a day goes by when someone does not drop off books at their local library - at least, I assume it happens everywhere; it sure does where I work! And of course I have to look through them. 

Anyway, Mr. Curry defends the Lord of the Rings stories, and their focus on the simple enjoyments of home, community and nature. He tries to explain the popularity from different angles. I feel I should read it again, so I put a note in it to that effect. Anyway -

"Why can Tolkien's 'mythology' be described as universal? I have already shown that it embodies an attack on unchecked modernity in all its worst aspects, and presents a world of community, nature and spiritual values that successfully, albeit barely, struggles to survive such destruction. That world seems to be a different one, with strange people and places; yet at the same time, it is also recognizably ours. And because the processes of rampant modernization - economic, political, cultural - are now truly global, the potential appeal and relevance of Tolkien's attack and alternative are also effectively universal. This is a social and historical development; there is nothing necessarily mystical about it. 

But his universality comes about in another way, too. For the very terms of his critique are mythic; after all, that is ultimately the most (and perhaps even only) effective way to counter a worldview which is rigidly rationalistic and scientistic. And there is literally nowhere in the world without some native tradition of a mythical way of relating to the world in which it is alive and saturated with spiritual meaning - enchanted, in a word. Those traditions may be deeply buried, but - like the gods they embody - they can still be revived by recognition."

This book was published in 1997, and even back then he was speaking of "re-enchantment". There's a lot of talk about this: that, in a nutshell, we have lost the ability to take true delight in the world, and we need to re-enchant our way of seeing things, like they did in the Middle Ages. 

There is an article in Plough by Paul Kingsnorth about this very thing, speaking about his new book, Against the Machine: "Its modus operandi is the abolition of all borders, boundaries, categories, essences, and truths: the uprooting of all previous ways of living in the name of pure individualism and perfect subjectivity. Its endgame is the replacement of nature with technology, in order to facilitate total control over a totally human world."

According to Patrick Curry, the popularity of the Tolkien books shows that we really don't want a world like that, whether we realize it in this way or not. 

Brothers and sisters: We speak a wisdom to those who are mature, not a wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather, we speak God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew; for, if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory,,,, For the Spirit scrutinizes everything, even the depths of God.

 -  1 Corinthians 2:6-10 

crow on the shed

I laughed

 When I want to wash my face, I shut the bathroom door to keep Daisy out; she will come in when the faucet turns on and get in the way. Sometimes, I don't shut it, and then have to put her out of the room. Last night, rather late, I went in and didn't bother. Of course she came in. I didn't put her out, either, thinking what the heck. So I ran the water to let it heat up, and she was all over the sink. I soaped up my face, while she, below my hands, roamed around the edges, peering into the water. And I started laughing. It was entirely ridiculous, me, trying to get at the running water, and Daisy, oblivious to my purposes, trying to study the thing that fascinates her above all else. It was a good laugh.

beyond our limits

 "Faith... is a great cannon which hurls man out beyond the boundaries of the universe into the world of the infinite. It is not to be conceived of as something mild, sweetly enfeebling. Rather it must be thought of in terms of strength, of an explosion which has broken down the walls of the world, of a storming of nature by the hosts of heaven that man might be released from the limitations of his humanity. It grants to man the freedom by which he can surpass not only the limits of the present, of the past, of space, of material things, but even the limits of all nature. By it his mind walks into the limitlessness of God."

                                                                           -  Fr. Walter Farrell, from Magnificat, February 2026

keeping warm

 Snow was predicted last night and all day today, and by morning light, everything looked fresh. Then around eight, visibility dropped and the wind was blowing it all around - I wondered if they'd be wrong again about the amounts, but it must have been a squall; it settled back into a light snow and ended mid-afternoon. But it's cold, and windy.

We throw out timothy hay, cracked corn, carrots, peanuts. The mourning doves seemed to like the corn this afternoon. 

I'd bought two large plastic bins for organizing the Christmas things, and today I can say it's done - everything is sensibly arranged in the bins and a couple of shoe boxes. Much better than it was, and I feel light as a feather! I'm surprised at how relieved I feel to have that done. By using the bins, I got a lot out of the closet, consolidated a few smaller boxes, and things that I like to group together are stored together - like it should have been all along!

Daisy sitting under the corner cabinet to warm up near the heaters

Peter Wohlleben, who wrote The Hidden Life of Trees, also has written The Inner Life of Animals; I just finished it. I liked some parts better than others, but many things were interesting. Here, he explains why moths fly around lights:

"Moths... rely on the moon when they want to fly in a straight line. For example, when the moon is at its height and they want to fly west, all they have to do is keep the moon to their left. But little moths can't tell the difference between the moon and a cozy lamp adding a decorative touch to a garden at night. Now, as the tiny winged wanderer glides past the tulips and the roses, it immediately gets turned around. The brightest light at night must be the moon, mustn't it? And so it tries to keep this new moon to its left, but the lamp is unfortunately not 238,900 miles but only a few yards away. If the moth keeps flying in a straight line, the "moon" appears behind it, and it seems to the moth that it must have flown in a circle. And so the insect pilot corrects its course to the left to, as it thinks, continue flying straight ahead. This makes the "moon" appear on the correct side, but what's really happening is that the moth is flying in circles around the light. The spiraling flight takes the moth ever closer to the light until it finally end up at the center. If the artificial moon is a candle, there's a brief "puff", and the moth's life is snuffed out."

you're okay

 A grandfather brought in his little one to the library today - he was so good with her; he seemed to have a childlike quality of his own that I believe made it easy for him. One of the columns in the children’s department is decorated as a snowman, with hat, "carrot" nose, etc. She would pass by it and say "hi" very earnestly. She noticed the hat, and so he pointed out all the other parts to the snowman. Of course, I've heard many adults doing the same sort of thing with children, but the sense of wonder seemed more genuine in him - I guess that's a judgment on my part. Oh, well, maybe it is. 

And when it was time to go and she was screaming a little, he said, you're okay, you're okay,* and brought her back to the snowman. He distracted her gently by pointing out it's features. Without exasperation. This child is fortunate.

*I say this to Orphan Annie when she seems bothered by something. 

in this world of strife

 Father almighty, you bring peace to those who trust in you.
Make us your ambassadors of peace in this world of strife,
that all peoples may come to know the joy and harmony found in loving you.
Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

- from Magnificat, February 2026