I took the day off from my usual work to catch up on my unpaid work and just plain catch my breath... which thankfully turned out to be a breath of fresh air on this our first true spring-like day: 60+ degrees and sunny.
So I've done a little work. But just a little. Mostly, I've spent the day being refreshed: taking a walk, soaking in some rays, and reading a book just for the pleasure of it. And what a book! It perfectly accommodates my desire to take a break from The Heavy, and so far, it is pure delight. Enjoy this excerpt from the brilliant and endearing Hilaire Belloc: The Path to Rome.
There was a sturdy boy at my school who, when the master had carefully explained to us the nature of metaphor, said that so far as he could see a metaphor was nothing but a long Greek word for a lie. And certainly men who know that the mere truth would be distasteful or tedious commonly have recourse to metaphor, and so do those false men who desire to acquire a subtle and unjust influence over their fellows, and chief among them, The Proverb-Maker. For though his name is lost in the great space of time that has passed since he flourished, yet his character can be very clearly deduced from the many literary fragments he has left, and that is found to be the character of a pusillanimous and ill-bred usurer, wholly lacking in foresight, in generous enterprise, and chivalrous enthusiasm -- in matters of the Faith a prig or a doubter, in matters of adventure a poltroon, in matters of Science an ignorant Parrot, and in Letters a wretchedly bad rhymester, with a vice for alliteration; a willful liar (as for instance, "The longest way round is the shortest way home"), a startling miser (as, "A penny saved is a penny earned"), one ignorant of largesse and human charity (as, "Waste not, want not"), and a shocking boor in the point of honour (as, "Hard words break no bones" --he never fought, I see, but with a cudgel.).
But he has just that touch of slinking humor which the peasants have, and there is in all he said that exasperating quality for which we have no name, which certainly is not accuracy, and which is quite the opposite of judgment, yet which catches the mind as brambles do our clothes, causing us continually to pause and swear. For he mixes up unanswerable things with false conclusions, he is perpetually letting the cat out of the bag and exposing our tricks, putting a colour to our actions, disturbing us with our own memory, indecently revealing corners of the soul. ....it is perhaps for this abominable logicality of his and for his malicious cunning that I chiefly hate him.
This is a portion from his introduction to what is, essentially, a travelogue. A journey alone and on foot from Toul, France to Rome. Think "Bill Bryson meets G.K. Chesterton."
I try not to habitually link to other people's blogs, but I thought this article was a profound expression of one mother's heart for her sons. A tiny excerpt:
I held you when fever burned your forehead. And I stroked back your hair when your stomach churned and I cleaned us both up when you vomited all over everything. I opened books for you and stoked your mind and unpacked a world before you and I laid down me to make more of you and it wasn’t a sacrifice but the unexpected grace of motherhood.
OK...this is just hilarious and I can't stop laughing. I can't help but love this guy's sense of humor and his total lack of inhibition. There may be no redemptive value in this, but it's just plain funny.
"Love without truth is sentimentality; it supports and affirms us but keeps us in denial about our flaws. Truth without love is harshness; it gives us information but in such a way that we cannot really hear it. God’s saving love in Christ, however, is marked by both radical truthfulness about who we are and yet also radical, unconditional commitment to us. The merciful commitment strengthens us to see the truth about ourselves and repent. The conviction and repentance moves us to cling to and rest in God’s mercy and grace."
As I've mentioned previously, I love that even though these guys are decent musicians, they don't take themselves too seriously. You can walk away and listen to these videos and enjoy them...but you'll miss out on their visual humor!
Come down, O love divine Seek thou this soul of mine And visit it with thine own ardor glowing O, Comforter, draw near Within my heart appear And kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing. O, let it freely burn Til earthly passions turn To dust and ashes in its heat consuming And let thy glorious light Shine ever on my sight And clothe me round the while my path illuming. Let holy charity Mine outward vesture be And lowliness become mine inner clothing True lowliness of heart Which takes the humbler part And o'er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing. And so the yearning strong With which the soul will long Shall far outpass the power of human telling For none can guess it's grace Til he become the place Wherein the Holy Spirit makes his dwelling.
This reading includes verses 1-9, 18-19, and 33...I have shown all 33 stanzas below, because if you have time, they're all worth the read.
Listening to good poetry can be infinitely more enriching than just reading it! Alliteration, assonance, and consonance that I might not notice while reading, are inescapable when listening.