I sit here in my quiet abode. At 8:30 am, I hear a fire engine. I realize I'll be hearing that siren for several hours. Annually, the city sends round the fire truck with Santa. This takes all morning.
I woke up pondering quandary. I don't participate in Christmas because I am in ethical disagreement with the activities. This year, the last department meeting is combined with a Christmas party. Do I incur disapproval by not going? Do I go and be a good girl.
I close my eyes. Shakespeare crosses my mind,"To thine own self be true." Sanskrit crosses my mind, "Namaste." In the prayerful darkness beyond my eye balls, I bow before the Son of God and His magnificence. Not Jesus, but Life Itself extended from God and residing in us. This Life is our true self and true identity.
I don't know whether I'll go to the party. I will bow down. It is the only way for me to do life.
Now, to Brummerhop park for laps.
Here is a bonus treat for today, a quote from Merton:
"The world of men has forgotten the joys of silence, the peace of solitude which is necessary, to some extent, for the fullness of human living. Not all men are called to be hermits, but all men need enough silence and solitude in their lives to enable the deep inner voice of their own true self to be heard at least occasionally. When that inner voice is not heard, when man cannot attain to the spiritual peace that comes from being perfectly at one with his own true self, his life is always miserable and exhausting. For he cannot go on happily for long unless he is in contact with the springs of spiritual life which are hidden in the depths of his own soul. If man is constantly exiled from his own home, locked out of his own spiritual solitude, he ceases to be a true person. He no longer lives as a man. He becomes a kind of automaton, living without joy because he has lost his spontaneity. He is no longer moved from within, but only from outside himself."
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