i probably should be cleaning my room. but i'm listening to iron & wine and i have a letter from wendell berry sitting on my desk and there is a lot more pressing into my brain than a tidy cuarto. that's the world's priority; this is mine.
i have just been birthed again. this new life doesn't directly correlate to jesus or the virgin mary, though i imagine that's always infused in my being somewhere, knit tightly together with the multiple christian spiritual affections i possess. la cuña: have i mentioned that is my favorite word in the spanish language? i wish i could have the Larousse spanish/english dictionary before me, give you the precise definition, and get a poster size copy of their illustration of la cuña. alas, my stories will have to do.
people will certainly ask me tomorrow, my "monday:" "how was your weekend?" should i be so honest as to tell them it was extraordinary, life-changing, the best 48 hour experience i've been present for in some time? i feel new, in fact, so new & vulnerable & refreshed that today i felt overwhelmed. i let the weekend be life, really life, life in perfection and balance and purely wonderful existence. the winter air was colder than ever to me this afternoon. banks & meals with family & the never-ending cycle of activity, though meaningful, seem to just be about keeping me busy. not keeping me alive, not keeping me rested, not keeping me intrigued, just busy.
i don't want to be busy. i want to lay in bed and listen to iron & wine while drifting in and out of sleep & affection. i want to read the NYT magazine and have it take me over two hours. i want two humongous proper cups of tea (ok the proper part was for effect). i want two hearts; two raw, flesh, beating hearts immodestly & über-vulnerably laying out their aspirations, fears, thoughts, tears, teeth, pains... all of that and more, onto the sidewalk, into the fresh air, underneath a pouring sky, washing all the is settled into all that is flowing into all that is alive.
i want hand-written letters, from wendell berry, nonetheless. i want words that change my life.
"Here is what I tell myself. In spite of the damage we have done to it and to one another, the world still contains many things that are beautiful and good--things of art and nature, human pleasures and affections--whore existence does no damage. We are kept alive and whole, I suspect, by loving and humoring those things. I mean, to be more explicit, the things that alert us to the presence of sanctity in the world and in ourselves." (w.b)
awake, new eyes, new flesh, settled, accepting, among the diversity of the world, i am alive again.