Sunday, July 31, 2005
Saturday, July 30, 2005
An Analogy
The Zahir
"A young woman with shining eyes starts telling me the story. To begin with there was the city wall. The wall remained, but one part of it was used to build a chapel. Many years passed, and the chapel became a church. Another century passed, and the chapel became a church. Another century passed, and the church became a Gothic cathedral. The cathedral had its moments of glory, there had been structural problems, for a time it had been abandoned, then restoration work had distorted the whole shape of the building, but each generation thought it had solved the problem and would rework the original plans. Thus, in the centuries that folled, they raised a wall here, took down a beam there, added a buttress over there, created or bricked up stained-glass windows.
And the cathedral withstood it all.
I walk though the skeleton of the cathedral, studying the restoration work currently being carried out: this time the architects guarantee that they have found the perfect solution. Everywhere there are metal supports, scaffolding, grand theories about what to do next and some criticism about what was done in the past.
And suddenly, in the middle of the central nave, i realise something very important: the cathedral is me, it is all of us. We are all growing and changing shape, we notice certain weaknesses that need to be corrected, we don't always choose the best solution, but we carry on regardless, trying to remain upright and decent, in order to do honour not to the walls or the doors or the windows, but to the empty space inside, the space where we worship and venerate what is dearest and most important to us.
Yes, we are all cathedrals, there is no doubt about it; but what lies in the empty space of my cathedral?"
"A young woman with shining eyes starts telling me the story. To begin with there was the city wall. The wall remained, but one part of it was used to build a chapel. Many years passed, and the chapel became a church. Another century passed, and the chapel became a church. Another century passed, and the church became a Gothic cathedral. The cathedral had its moments of glory, there had been structural problems, for a time it had been abandoned, then restoration work had distorted the whole shape of the building, but each generation thought it had solved the problem and would rework the original plans. Thus, in the centuries that folled, they raised a wall here, took down a beam there, added a buttress over there, created or bricked up stained-glass windows.
And the cathedral withstood it all.
I walk though the skeleton of the cathedral, studying the restoration work currently being carried out: this time the architects guarantee that they have found the perfect solution. Everywhere there are metal supports, scaffolding, grand theories about what to do next and some criticism about what was done in the past.
And suddenly, in the middle of the central nave, i realise something very important: the cathedral is me, it is all of us. We are all growing and changing shape, we notice certain weaknesses that need to be corrected, we don't always choose the best solution, but we carry on regardless, trying to remain upright and decent, in order to do honour not to the walls or the doors or the windows, but to the empty space inside, the space where we worship and venerate what is dearest and most important to us.
Yes, we are all cathedrals, there is no doubt about it; but what lies in the empty space of my cathedral?"
A blogamonth
This truly has become a blogamonth. Ever since coming back from overseas.. I've been procastinating.
What to do when so much fills the mind?
And an overworked soul that lacks sleep.
Not to mention a craving body for activity.
Everyone seems to disappointed to have lost me...
I wonder if its a loss..
Or just a kink in their scheme of things.
Millions of photos lay littered and strewn all over my computer.
MP3s too. So do plans and thoughtful writings.
To write at will. The biggest bane of last century.
Now...
Even worse.
And not to mention that some of my students have managed to find my blog.
Ohh wells...
Dun worry guys and gals...
Nothing you read here will interest you.
And nothing I write here will make sense to you.
So dun even try...
;)
What to do when so much fills the mind?
And an overworked soul that lacks sleep.
Not to mention a craving body for activity.
Everyone seems to disappointed to have lost me...
I wonder if its a loss..
Or just a kink in their scheme of things.
Millions of photos lay littered and strewn all over my computer.
MP3s too. So do plans and thoughtful writings.
To write at will. The biggest bane of last century.
Now...
Even worse.
And not to mention that some of my students have managed to find my blog.
Ohh wells...
Dun worry guys and gals...
Nothing you read here will interest you.
And nothing I write here will make sense to you.
So dun even try...
;)
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