intimations of immortality

Mystic quote of the day:

"Every day is a god, each day is a god, and holiness holds forth in time. I worship each god, I praise each day splintered down, splintered down and wrapped in time like a husk, a husk of many colors spreading, at dawn fast over the mountains split."

That's Annie Dillard, at the beginning of Holy the Firm.

I forget how closely eternity is wrapped in time. I forget how each moment is its own eternity, sanctified to that which is beyond time. I forget that every instant of my being, of every being, of any being, is utterly significant.

It's easier, pretending that each day is mundane, another obstacle to be hurtled, another creek to cross, and that my only aim is to avoid bruised shins or wet feet. It's more comfortable to settle into a mindless routine, to dull my senses and think only of the times when I can go home and fall in bed. It's dangerous, to live in eternity-in-time. The crest of the wave, the question, the threshhold of seen and unseen.

But wow, we can. We're beings of liminality, simultaneously existing in body and soul, held together by mind. A mind that is too often too fragile for the significance of the moment, but the best tool that we have.

Anyway, I'm out of practice with essay writing, but there are my thoughts. My petty resentments needed that kick in the teeth to knock them back into perspective.