An endless living world If there is a heaven, and I am allowed entrance, I will ask for no more than an endless living world to walk through and explore. Michael R. Canfield, Field Notes on Science and Nature learningnaturereligionwalking
To find God in the seminary If he were to tire of the Andalusian fields, he could sell his sheep and go to sea. By the time he had had enough of the sea, he would already have known other cities, other women, and other chances to be happy. I couldn't have found God in the seminary, he thought, as he looked at the sunrise. Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist religion
As a kind of gateway Historically, Japan's shrines have been built in order to worship the gods who live in the sacred mountains or seas; They don't reside in the shrine itself, but in the space beyond it. This belief that the spirits and deities exist beyond the confines of the shrine, and that the shrine itself acts not as a centre, but as a kind of gateway, is very different to the grand, imposing churches and cathedrals of Christianity. The majority of shrines are not found in the mountains or in the middle of the fields, therefore, but at the borders of mountain villages – which is to say, at what is seen as the edge of the mountains. The tori gate, marking the entrance to a shrine, indicates that there are gods on the other side of it. Kengo Kuma, My Life as an Architect in Tokyo An edge is an interfacePaths, edges, districts, nodes, landmarks religionedges
The neon god they made And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel, The Sound Of Silence religionenergy
Everybody worships Because here’s something else that’s weird but true: in the day-to-day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship–be it JC or Allah, be it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles–is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. David Foster Wallace, This is Water City messages religion
Dwelling in ritual Even a dwelling is a device that generates a distinct pattern of daily activities and their relationships. Some buildings are explicitly built for ritual, but the repetition of any activity, either mundane or religious, tends to ritualize them, and by facilitating this, an architectural structure can turn gradually – sometimes even unnoticeably – into an instrument of ritual. Robert McCarter & Juhani Pallasmaa, Understanding Architecture White cloth ritualpatternsreligion
Who walks beside you? Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road There is always another T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land religionwalking
Immer wieder My attitude toward Alexander’s teachings prior to experiencing the places and spaces realized in his practice was akin to what Alan Watts said about certain teachings in The Bible: Sometimes, as St. Paul pointed out, commandments are not given in the expectation that they will be obeyed, but in the expectation that they will reveal something to those who hear them. Today, my answer is unequivocal. My interpretive lens: literal. Time and again, across cultures and continents and islands and oceans, in five different places now I’ve examined the evidence, and am persuaded. Nicht nur einmal: immer wieder. Dan Klyn, Einmal Ist Keinmal blog.usejournal.com religionteaching
The Mind of the Maker A Book by Dorothy Sayers en.wikipedia.org Looking at man, [the author of Genesis] sees in him something essentially divine, but when we turn back to see what he says about the original upon which the “image” of God was modelled, we find only the single assertion, “God created”. The characteristic common to God and man is apparently that: the desire and the ability to make things. Only in terms of other thingsI mix it with two in my thoughtTowards a synthesis of experienceAnd these three are one"The right phrase"+28 More religion
Narcissus and Goldmund A Novel by Herman Hesse www.goodreads.com DualityFear of deathPain and joySuddenly the letter has a tailAll that is beautiful and lovely My own beauty reflected religionlovelife
the speed of God An Article by Alan Jacobs blog.ayjay.org [Andy Crouch] quotes the Japanese theologian Kosuke Koyama saying that “the speed of God” is three miles an hour because that was the speed at which Jesus moved through his world. So maybe, and I think this is one of the chief burdens of Andy’s book, what makes the most sense for us is to try whenever possible to move at the speed of God – and in that way refuse the offer of superpowers. Of course, this dovetails with a lot of things people have been writing lately about slowness, but what I like about Andy’s book is that it specifies why we can find ourselves responding so warmly to the possibility of slowness. What happens when we seek superpowers, and especially super-speed, is the sacrifice of what I want to call our proper powers – the powers through the exercise of which we (heart-soul-mind-strength) flourish in love. The brain is wider than the sky religionloveeuphonyslowness
Several Short Sentences About Writing A Book by Verlyn Klinkenborg www.goodreads.com Here, in short, is what I want to tell you. Know what each sentence says, What it doesn't say, And what it implies. Of these, the hardest is knowing what each sentence actually says. Sonorisms VBoth models are completely uselessThe shape of the sentenceThe Anxiety of SequenceYou can get anywhere from anywhere+18 More Wittgenstein's MistressWrite SimplyThe most important thing you do writing
Sonorisms V Leave space between them for the things that words can't really say. To suggest more than the words seem to allow. Perhaps it renames the world. The Anxiety of Sequence. It was all change until the very last second. The debris of someone else's thinking. You'll never run out of noticings. Names that announce the whatness of the world. What were you trying to protect? You were protecting the memory. The tyranny of what exists. Do any of them sound first? It sets an echo in motion. Try writing for the reader in yourself. So call it "perfection enough". Toward the name of the world—yours to discover. euphony
Both models are completely useless In your head, you'll probably find two models for writing. One is the familiar model taught in high school and college—a matter of outlines and drafts and transitions and topic sentences and argument. The other model is its antithesis—the way poets and novelists are often thought to write. Words used to describe this second model include "genius", "inspiration", "flow", and "natural", sometimes even "organic". Both models are useless. I should qualify that sentence. Both models are completely useless. genius
The shape of the sentence You've been taught to overlook the character of the prose in front of you in order to get at its meaning. You overlook the shape of the sentence itself for the meaning it contains, Which means that while you were reading, All those millions of words passed by Without teaching you how to make sentences. meaningstructure
The Anxiety of Sequence Much of what's taught under the name of expository writing could be called "The Anxiety of Sequence." Its premise is this: To get where you're going, you have to begin in just the right place And take the proper path, Which depends on knowing where you plan to conclude. The Age of the Essay essays
You can get anywhere from anywhere And if you can get anywhere from anywhere, You can start anywhere And end anywhere. There is no single necessary order. progressending
Significant everywhere Writing isn't a conveyor belt bearing the reader to "the point" at the end of the piece, where the meaning will be revealed. Good writing is significant everywhere, Delightful everywhere. goodness
It was all change until the very last second Every work of literature is the result of thousands and thousands of decisions. Intricate, minute decisions—this word or that, here or where, now or later, again and again. It's the living tissue of a writer's choices, Not the fossil record of an ancient, inspired race. A concept of style decisionscraft
A renaming of the already named A true metaphor is a swift and violent twisting of language, A renaming of the already named. It's meant to expire in a sudden flash of light And to reveal—in that burst of illumination— A correspondence that must be literally accurate. metaphornames
The debris of someone else's thinking A cliché isn't just a familiar, overused saying. It's the debris of someone else's thinking. cliché
How each sentence got that way When the work is really complete, the writer knows how each sentence got that way. intent
This small internal quaver Pay attention now: No matter how much you know or learn about syntax, grammar, or rhetoric, This small internal quaver, this inner disturbance, Is the most useful evidence you'll ever get. Someday, you'll be able to articulate what causes it. But for now, what's important is to notice it. Noticing is always the goal. ...the faint vertigo caused by an ambiguity you can't quite detect. What matter is what it points to. Find out what's causing it and fix it Even if you're not sure how. Notes on the Synthesis of Form attention
The urge to be done "Flow" is often a synonym for ignorance and laziness. It's also a sign of haste, the urge to be done. productivity
Talking and writing Talking is natural. Writing is not. It may seem strange that the manual dexterity needed to hold a pencil—or use a keyboard—comes later than the lingual and mental dexterity needed to speak. But it does. speech
What were you trying to protect? As the piece evolves, you try to protect those original, effusive sentences. Only to realize, at last, that what you're writing won't come together until they've been removed or revised. What were you trying to protect? The memory of the excitement you felt when those words "came to you." (Where did they "come" from?) You were protecting the memory of the excitement of really concentrating, of paying close attention to your thoughts and, perhaps, your sentences, the excitement of feeling the galvanic link between language and thought. memory
The discoveries you make in the making Style is an expression of the interest you take in the making of every sentence. It emerges, almost without intent, from your engagement with each sentence. It's the discoveries you make in the making of the prose itself. Where ambiguity rules, there is no "style"—or anything else worth having. Pursue clarity instead. In the pursuit of clarity, style reveals itself. The idea grows as they workFour principlesExpressing ideas helps to form them styleclaritymaking
The virtue of already existing It can be overwhelming—the inertia of the paragraphs and pages you've already composed, the sentences you've already written, No matter how rough they are. Whether you love what you've written or not, Those sentences have the virtue of already existing, Which makes them better than sentences that don't exist. Or so it seems.
Composition and revision Revise at the point of composition. Compose at the point of revision. Think of composition and revision as the same thing. 104. Site Repair design
Squander your material Squander your material. Don't ration it, saving the best for last. You don't know what the best is. Or the last.
Do any of them sound first? Just try out some sentences. Lots of them. See how they sound. Do any of them sound first? You're holding an audition. Many sentences will try out. One gets the part.
When you're interested in what you're working on It's never hard to work when you're interested in what you're working on. But what if you hate what you're working on? It helps to examine the content of your loathing. What is it you hate? hatework
The work selects its audience Imagine a cellist playing one of Bach's solo suites. Does he consider his audience? (Did Bach, for that matter?) Does he play the suit differently to audiences Of different incomes and educations and social backgrounds? No. The work selects its audience.