The Weight of Glory - Excerpt

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is the immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. - C.S. Lewis


Will I simply forget all that has happened these last six months; so much that my obstinate definition of reality was challenged in-spite of itself?  What will come of all that has happened – can I possibly hope for, yearn for, that desired transformation of heart?  Can it be possible that this is the end of seeking and a new road to an even more wonderful place?  Is it time for the change I long for so deeply?  My honest fear is that this continues on endlessly, or at the least, continues past the moment where these things are ripe.  For when so much calms down and the storm stops raging, I yearn for that storm to return as it makes these things real, tangible and unavoidable.  Of course in the storm I cry for a break, brief respite from these things that besiege me.  Am I a fool?  Even now I write these words and think them inspired, thinking that they flow together and could use littler improvement.  It must be that I am grossly lost, tremendously confused and so prideful and arrogant that I can’t recognize it.  Seems something is wrong here.  Or, maybe something is right?  What sort of prayer do you pray when you suspect you’re a fool but only see what appears good and right inside?


Despite everything that has happened, all these crazy stories and wonderful adventures, it's still not enough.  Oh I wish that it could be, that things could be different, but this wishing -- this yearning -- seems not to be enough.  I really don't know what to do from here.  Maybe this is a typical phase for 20-somethings these days.  Or, maybe I'm out there and off my rocker.  Honestly, I just don't know and don't really think I can. 

The Storm Calmed in Rays Applemarket

Why was it refreshing to walk into Ray's Apple Market just now?  What is it about that place that totally calmed me?  It's been a long time since I've gone there.  I stopped going because it started to fell hopeless, and my world closed down with repeatedly going there.  Now though, it feels one of the only real places and the energy it carries completely calmed the storm inside.  Was it that to this is a place that service those most in need?  I also started to feel a similar kind of peace with going to the assist with the Habitat for Humanity.  Maybe these troubled times call for more service, or for us to re-examine those places we give our energies to, such as large scale and largely impersonal businesses.  Does this explain why Vintage would experience such an increase in people over the last six months?

Symbols of a Life and Mystical Experience

Symbols of a Life:
Shooting Star
Grass Fire
Ring around the moon

Many of the deeply profound mystical experience I have are paired with music in some way.

1) Deeply powerful memory of listening to Evangelion music at the Magic/Anime convention when I was probably 13 or so.
2) Sense of bliss in high school band, while playing the Planets by Gustav Holst.
(It’s interesting to note this experience and my interest in astronomy, astrology and the sky-based phenomena)
3) Profound joy experienced in 2006 while driving home from Lynn’s place and listening to MercyMe.
4) Profound joy sparked after listening to the Lost Prophets in Aimee’s Coffeehouse in Lawrence during summer of 2008.


I feel more lost and confused than ever.  I'm sending this message because I need help and don't know how to ask.  

The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet

Why did this look eerily familar? 

I read this book in elementary school.  I remember sitting in the library pit surrounded by other kids.  As the teacher droned on all we could think about was what book we would rush to when released to find something to read.  This was one of my favorite books -- something about the planet 50,000 miles away, hiding in so close to Earth yet completely invisible to others, really really sparked my attention.  I get such a warm and peculiar feeling of nostaliga from this book: dusty familiaritiy and a quiet childhood excitment, with streaks of closeness and the magic of life.  This is somewhat releated to the earliest memories of playing in the Chel or of collecting the first Magic cards. 

The Hawk Is Dying

In the most recent C-Realm podcast, episode 201,  Albert Bates relates a striking story about an Amazonian shaman's trip to the Copenhagen Climate Summit.  The story has it that the ayahuascero went to the forest to hunt a bird.  He crept through the forest and came across a place where he was to kill the bird.  While waiting. he lapsed into a dream where the bird appeared to him and explained that the Earth is dying and that the shaman was to help.  Upon waking the shaman immediately gave up his hunt, returned to his village and began to track down information about the state of the Earth and climate degredation.  During his research he left his village and went to a local university to find more information about climate change, eventually learning of the Copenhagen summit.  The shaman realized that he must travel to Copenhagen to influence the meetings in any way he could. 

Very stark stuff.

Countless birds flit around this time of year.  Yesterday three turkey vultures winged over the beginnings of our volleyball game.  What did they have to say?  Much like the crows at the start of the year, these birds seem out to catch our attention.