May 8th, 2006


(no subject)

An odd weekend, to be sure.

It was exhausting and difficult and full of my own selfish groans. I watched the foolishly petty become the dreadfully petty within the foul places of my heart.

But hope remains.

A bit of sleep helps. The thunder that roars outside somehow makes it through the barriers of concrete and the busyness of office noise and gives my ears a sound of something alive.

And I recover!


I have found myself in what is surely a post-Pascha/post-Portland letdown.

I feel old things within me dying: my hopes of perfection and my self-assurance.

This is good.

We will call it a slow and dreary ascetical cleaning.

Amen. Amen. Amen.