“You are like Odysseus, who could go out onto the great sea, lose all his goods and his friends, come to the boundaries of death and return still himself.” – Gillian Bradshaw

From “The Human Condition: A User’s Manual,” by Arnold Kunst

11 July

Periodically I must “come apart for a little while,” as it says in the Bible. It’s all about feeding the soul, and that’s what happens when I confront yet again the riddle of an ever-cleansing sea cleansing an ever-cleansed shore, to answer yet again the beckoning whisper of the wind, the gossamer spread of stars splashed with prodigal abandon across the cobalt-blue of a midnight sky. I am called to delve because clearly deep is calling unto deep. To delve with courage and persistence and innocence and a sense of humor, with faith that when I dive off the edge I will be caught and sustained utterly in love. For it is only then that I will ever taste the height and depth and majesty of mystical communion such as I was made for. And when I do it right I’ll show Odysseus himself the meaning of journey.