But I asked once,and my question almost suffocated me:What? Is the rabble alsonecessary for life? Are poisoned fountains necessary,and stinking fires,and filthy dreams,and maggots in the bread of life? Not my hatred, — my loathing, gnawed hungrily at my life!Ah, often my spirit was drained,when I found even the rabble spiritual! And holding my…
LIFE is a well of delight;but where the rabble also drink,thereall fountains are poisoned. To everything clean I am well disposed;but I hate to seethe grinning mouthsand the thirst of the unclean. They cast their eye down into the fountain:and now glance up to metheir odious smile out of the fountain. They poisoned the…
Why did I startle in my dream, so that I awoke? That is the question isn’t it? Dreams and night visions are the stuff of literature. The story of Macbeth comes to mind. No one knows for sure from whence comes a dream. I remember talking about dreams with a therapist. She recognized dreams…
When Zarathustra had spoken these words, he paused, like one who had not said his last word; and long did he balance the staff doubtfully in his hand. At last he said this – and his voice had changed: I now go alone, my disciples! You also must now go away alone! So will…
Thus goes the bodythrough history,a becomer and fighter. And the spirit — what is it to the body?Its fights’and victories’herald, its companionand echo. Nietzsche/Zarathustra refers time and time again to the wisdom of the body. The body is the conduit, our interface with external reality. An ongoing theme is emphasis on what the body…
Tell me… how is it that gold is attributed the highest value? Because it is uncommon, and nonfunctional, and beaming, and soft in lustre; it always bestows itself. Only as image of the highest virtue came gold to the highest value. Goldlike, beams the glance of the bestower. Gold-lustre makes peace between moon and…
Often the irony of my situation slaps me in the face, a wake up call! Good news is bad news is good news, etc., etc.. Who would choose to be bitten by snake, in the neck while napping?! The scream, the shock subsides, and you recognize that it was time to wake up anyway….
Monday. Easter weekend recedes. Pope Francis died. Everyone dies. What one does to create oneself concludes at the moment of death. Game over… This New York Times headline struck me as more portentous however: Republicans in half a dozen states, including Idaho and Michigan, have introduced resolutions urging the Supreme Court to reconsider same-sex…
It is early Easter morning. Here at Starbucks I’ll write a bit before returning to home base. Among my responsibilities, to hide a bucket full of Easter eggs around the yard. Four grandchildren are to be dispatched to find the eggs, according to some rules, naturally. I pondered for a moment what to write…
Days become weeks, weeks months and perhaps years too, rare if ever does the conversation arise. I mean a direct, heads-up discussion about what we mean when we use the term God. What qualifies as experience of a divine presence for me? I could never hazard to answer on your behalf. Sometimes after pondering…
