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Recollection and Words

I really like this poem my brother posted on his blog..I've reproduced it here.

In response to his previous blog, words do have a magical power, a sacredness to them. As humans we have been blessed with the power of language to create words to express. Words help us to formalize ideas and make them concrete, and words give us ways to share. Words convey meanings and emotions. The word has made us more than mere animal and raised us above a barbaric existence.

But I think we also must understand that as sacred words are, they are only approximations to convey and describe and formulate a concept or truth that is already there. Truth and love do not need words, and you should never doubt that those exist. As Lao-Tzu would say, "道可道非常道,名可名非常名." To translate: the everlasting, all pervading 道 (or source of all things) cannot be expressed fully in words, for if it could, then it would not be the true and everlasting 道. Same for 名, which is the truth of the source.

And do not mistrust the word. It is true that in the future we must be more careful with our words, and how we receive the words of other. Something I strive for (though often times fail) is to be more precise with my words (like during my prelim practice today!! I was like "umm umm and" way too much, but I digress), so that I say, to the best of my ability, exactly what I want to say and no more. This of course, takes practice, and so, write on!

*****
Recollection--- J. Barrie Shepherd

I have a hunch that much of faith
is formed in looking backward,
taking stock, reflecting on
what has been, and what might have been.
Most of the time, you see,
we're far too close to things
to view them properly.
The hassle hustle of the everyday
can blind us to what's really going on,
obscure for us the chasms and the pinnacles
that mark the landscape of our living.
It's only when, and if, we take the time
to glance across the shoulder and reflect,
to pause and ponder where we are
and how we got here, that we can trace
the constant presence of a mystery that blesses as it wounds,
that turns us inside out and upside down,
that leads us, by a path we did not choose,
toward a hope we hardly knew we had,
a trust that yet endures, despite so much,
a strange familiar grace that touches
everything we touch with promise.
I'll even bet old stammering Moses
leading his motley crew across that gap
between the waves, had no time to inquire about
who put it there. He just saw a chance
and grabbed it with both hands. Then later,
on the other bank or deep into the wilderness,
he realized, "So that's what God
was up to all the time!"
*****

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