Easter morning. 

I awakened early so that I could write this.  Family members are to arrive around eleven, and preparations will be made beforehand.  I will not be rushing off to Easter worship services this morning.  That’s not to say that I do not believe in resurrection.  I do.  Just not the crude, atavistic kind, that supports the superstitious notion that by divine intervention, certain one’s of us will “rise from the dead someday.”  There, I’ve said it; showing for all the world to see, the cards that I hold.

In times past our ancestors sacrificed, ritually killed animals in order to petition the favor of the deity.  Our ancestors were sincere, it just seemed the right thing to do.  We do not practice such killings any more for many reasons.  One good reason, we noticed that sacrifice was manifestly unreliable.  We couldn’t tell if there was any effect, if taking a life made a difference.  We learned to separate facts, from what we believed. 

So what of life and death, death and life, and what about the concept of sacrifice?  Many things come to mind.  Life and death are not opposites.  Both are intimately related.  Life, all life has a beginning, and a trajectory of maturation, of decline, and of death.  The last part, death is necessary preparation for what follows, the rising up of a new life.  We can see this all around us at this time of year.  The cold, the dormancy of winter is followed by the emergence of tender green shoots, in the longer, warmer days of spring.  The same is true of human life and death.  We just make things more complicated, confused because we imagine that we’d like to live for eternity.  Certain forms of religion take advantage of that fantasy.

What about sacrifice, what’s that all about?  Sacrifice is an important aspect of investing in more life.  Do you want to live, to feel, to perceive more widely, more intensely?  Should you take the time and the labor to learn another language, it is guaranteed that a different way of seeing will open up to you.  Language is the medium of culture.  Another option would be learning how to use a camera well, developing an eye for composition, cultivating an appreciation for beauty.  The list is infinite of what you could learn, to enrich your life, to earn more of life:  gardening, baking, interior design, parenting, a musical instrument, etc.  All of these take focus, demand sacrificing yourself to the requirements of the subject at hand.  Sacrifice is the entree to life.  Time which is scarce, precious time, must be spent in preparation.  Also required is effort of mind and body.

This poem by Rainer Maria Rilke seems appropriate for this occasion.  What has been discussed is a detailed account of what is meant by love.  I think that Rilke has addressed the subject with greater success in the words of this poem.  The world is an immense symphony, and each of us is invited to join the one melody. 

Love Song

By Rainer Maria Rilke

When my soul touches yours a great chord sings!
How shall I tune it then to other things?
O! That some spot in darkness could be found
That does not vibrate when’er your depth sound.
But everything that touches you and me
Welds us as played strings sound one melody.
Where is the instrument whence the sounds flow?
And whose the master-hand that holds the bow?
O! Sweet song—

“Love Song” appeared in Poems (T.A. Wright, 1918), translated by Jessie Lemont.

---

I captured a few photos yesterday.  The first is of cuttings from last year’s begonia plant, now blooming in the warmth of the sun.  The tiny red shoots emerging from a vertical stem, are of a rose.  Other images are of wild flowers.