Good morning everyone and welcome to Friday’s Morning Open Thread.
Morning Open Thread is a daily, copyrighted post from a host of editors and guest writers. We support our community, invite and share ideas, and encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue in an open forum.
I’ve come to think of this post as one where you come for the music and stay for the conversation—so feel free to drop a note. The diarist gets to sleep in if she so desires and can show up long after the post is published. So you know, it's a feature, not a bug.
Join us, please.
Once in time, upon a road to Istanbul, I met a golden hummingbird—she was beautiful, aloof, and coy. And though she wouldn’t speak her name, her stories were like woven silk.
I’ve been reading too much Blake this week. Or maybe it’s this heat dome that’s settled over two-thirds of the country. But for whatever reason, I have settled on these as the opening lines of my ever-changing, tortured and overly-dramatic memoir. I know that when I’ve run the course through the mystics and the Saint Johns of the Cross, these words will be replaced with the clipped, modern cadence favored by editors and publishers these days. Until then I will enjoy the richness of a time when men and women believed in good and evil as forces in our lives. When the sky is but an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los or the spectre around me guards my way like a wild beast.
Like the difference between mourning and grief or a belief and a delusion, there may be but a half step between such trust in an unknowable force touching our lives and a belief in the power of satellites launched by the Sons of Romulus and Remus to change the secret and mysterious codes of machines called Dominion in the state of Georgia. We live in odd times—but are these days any odder than the eighteenth century’s belief that tobacco smoke enemas were the treatment for drowning victims? Is that akin to the twenty-first century’s widely-held belief that Ivermectin is a miracle cure for COVID-19? I’m not so sure.
So in the early morning light, I will wile away my time figuring out those lines between inspiration and irrationality simply for the sake of understanding. And until I understand, I will trust in Blake’s observation that “every space larger than a red globule of Man’s blood is visionary” and “every space smaller than a globule of Man’s blood open into Eternity.”
I do hope everyone has a lovely Friday and that you are looking forward to a relaxing weekend. Peace.
Be well, be kind, and appreciate the love you have in your life.
Grab your coffee or tea and join us, please.
What's on your mind this morning?
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