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Showing posts from September, 2010
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Die before you die ~Muhammad Spinoza wrote: "A free man thinks of nothing less than of death; and his wisdom is a meditation not on death but on life". (Ethics, IV, proposition 67) Yet while I meditate on life, say holding a newborn baby or gazing at the full moon or into my lovers' eyes, I ache. My joy is cradled in a heart that is breaking, like laughter in bruised ribs, and it hurts to know that the seed of life is also the birth of death, and that I’ll eventually be separated from everything and everyone I love. Most people try not to think about that or, when they are faced with death or loss in their lives, respond by defending against distress, investing energy into overcoming it as an obstacle to their well-being. The psychotherapeutic environment is useful in that regard. By providing the scaffolding necessary for restoration or renovation, it enables the self to buttress itself against situational distress, promoting healing enough to move on. But the truth...
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Who am I Drops from the tree Like an apple Or a tear from the eye Round and clear But still Holding the querent Until it bursts The heart that wants to see And cries out while dying No! Fists clenched in a dumb roar Against the sky The echo of whose call Across the canyon Leaves Its empty husk On the calloused ground Beneath its feet