September 25, 2014
When
reading Myth Became Fact I became
curious about the nature of thought and its effect on our lives. Particularly,
the paragraph where Lewis comments that the more lucidly we think, the more we
are cut off: the more deeply we enter reality, the less we can think. I find
that to be incredibly insightful, and perhaps scary to many people at first,
particularly those who might be overly fond of reason or analysis of something.
I agree with Lewis, though. At this point in my life, I’m at a place where I
would much rather experience something or give myself to it than to try to
dissect it. Prayer, scripture, a kiss, a cup of coffee, even the way I write
when I write outside of academic settings—I would so much rather just be in
that experience than to try to break it down. My friend Adam Hart asked me the
other day how I read poetry, and I told him I just sit down and take a bath in
it, no editor here.
I’ll end with a poem I wrote about a month ago,
interestingly before this class began:
Nowadays, it is my
sincere joy
to be swept up,
in words written,
sounds heard;
a touch felt, a pair
of eyes met.
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