Sunday, May 19, 2013

Or Maybe I Could Use a Nap

I walk wet sidewalks, the cars hissing down the street beside me as the rain slackens to a fine, drenching mist.

It's been a number of weeks since I've meditated, and my soul, whatever that might be, feels as loggy and drooping as this gray day.

The only sin that the bible says is unforgivable is the infamous "sin against the Holy Spirit," the nature of which is never made entirely clear.

My guess is that it has something to do with the belief that a person doesn't need any sort of grace, spirituality, whatever, and that it's "unforgivable," not because it's particularly egregious, but because the mechanism by which it might be cured is the very thing that needs healing.

1 comment:

  1. That first sentence is a beaut: the alliteration in "walk wet sidewalks" echoed in hissing and slackens; one line captures the day and the mood precisely.

    Charles Cooke in Playing the Piano for Pleasure writes that a new habit "must function, at first, for a little while, from the power supplied by you... a strong conscious effort, even to the extent of a sensation of spiritual pain.... in a surprisingly short time the habit begins to take over the task of supplying power... and finally we get a sensation of spiritual pain if we don't exercise the habit."

    Spiritual conditioning, like physical conditioning, requires daily discipline. How much harder to resume after hiatus even than to begin.