A Collective of Creatures Creating
“With red eyes, a swollen face, and a streaming nose, Ramona sat up and glared at her mother. “Love me!” Her voice was fierce with hurt. Shocked at her own words, she buried her face in the pillow. She had no tears left.”
I loved Ramona, but I lacked her courage. To be undone, but to still have the strength to demand love? Couldn’t be me.
I crush my latte cup in one hand. This is stupid. I don’t know what my dreams are. How does a person know what their dreams are after forty? Is having dreams even appropriate once you start using night cream and getting yearly mammograms?
by Irim Sarwar You will search for me? Wherever I am? If there is a way?Wherever you are. Until the sun dies and the last wind blows through the worlds. Need you ask me? Even now?—Ysabel, Guy Gavriel Kay I looked away from my Kindle app, closed my iPad, and stared out at the sunsetContinue reading “Talking to Dust: Lost and Found”
The seventh commandment forbids acts or enterprises that for any reason— selfish or ideological, commercial, or totalitarian— lead to the enslavement of human beings, to their being bought, sold and exchanged like merchandise, in disregard for their personal dignity. It is a sin against the dignity of persons and their fundamental rights to reduce them by violence to their productive value or to a source of profit.
Following the example of Christ, Christians who fight injustice are also to be men and women of prayer.
A truly free spirit could handle a little bit of earth moving or sky tumbling. She might even enjoy the ride. She definitely wouldn’t blame herself for not somehow managing to hold the earth and sky in place by sheer strength of will.
Bad Catholics don’t pray the rosary, but have at least five stashed around their house (and one in their car). Bad Catholics have no idea when the Holy Days of Observation are. Bad Catholics will receive the Eucharist at your wedding or funeral, even if they already broke their fast by toasting you in the parking lot
“Look C!,” I exclaimed, in that desperately upbeat tone we parents use when stuck somewhere boring with our children, “It’s um…the Incredible Hulk, and…uh..Iron Man, right? The red one? And that’s….well, that’s Scarlett Johansson…?”
As archbishop, Weakland condemned and threatened teachers who reported priests were sexually abusing children.
Last week my therapist hinted that I might be having problems with my root chakra. Like, it might be blocked. Or, if not blocked, congested. In need of a spiritual neti pot or some such.
Sick Pilgrim