Plague Journal, Sunup
“‘Now if love is always for this,’ she proceeded, ‘what is the method of those who pursue it, and what is the behavior whose eagerness and straining are to be termed love? What actually is this effort? Can you tell me?’
“‘Ah, Diotima,’ I said; ‘in that case I should hardly be admiring you and your wisdom, and sitting at your feet to be enlightened on just these questions.’
“‘Well, I will tell you,’ said she; ‘it is begetting on a beautiful thing by means of both the body and the soul.’
“‘It wants some divination to make out what you mean,’ I said; ‘I do not understand.’
— excerpt Symposium by Plato 206b trans. Harold N. Fowler
Saturday morning and Starbucks is buzzing with the start of Fall activity along the Fox River Valley. Do not ask me how I captured this photo while driving east on Fabyan Parkway approaching the bridge.
The question is suspended waiting for answer: Sunrise is emblematic of a new day. What will be “new” about this day? What if anything new will be born today…?
Will there be a break with the “same old, same old,” my habitual way of thinking/living? Will there be a rupture, a “fall-into-love,” a spark of fresh life, a new approach to my world — the result of being captured by the sight, by the sound of something(s) different, other than what I currently possess/understand? Can I bet on something new, something beautiful, and powerful today?
As Socrates responded to Diotima, “some divination to make out what is meant” is needed.
Somehow this song strikes me as “right” for this Fall morning.