From reflections on the mystical journeys of Merton to more immediate and down-to-earth concerns (isn’t that the way it always is?). Funding cuts announced without warning, so out here projects and workshops will have to be cancelled, writing projects abandoned — ugh, ugh, ugh. So stressed that I threw up twice this morning and the housemate is grey with worry and grief. Living from hand to mouth, and it gets tougher each year.
But somehow we will carry on, find a way to keep things going. There are blue and white butterflies dancing in the cold sunlight, the dog is digging a hole in what used to be the front garden, a small squirrel in climbing the old oak tree in search of a hidden cache of acorns.
Immanence. Just to stay here now and breathe deeply.
What We Need Is Here
By Wendell Berry
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.