Head-dibs

 

 

  Yard work done. Mind nourished.

“It is the humble man who does the bold things. It is the humble man who has the sensational sights vouchsafed to him, and this for three obvious reasons: first, that he strains his eyes more than any other men to see them; second, that he is more overwhelmed and uplifted with them when they come; third, that he records them more exactly and sincerely and with less adulteration from his more commonplace and more conceited everyday self. Adventures are to those to whom they are most unexpected—that is, most romantic.”    (G K Chesterton, Heretics, Chapter 5, “Mr. H G Wells and the Giants)

  “The man who said, ‘Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall not be disappointed,’ put the eulogy quite inadequately and even falsely. The truth ‘Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall be gloriously surprised.’ The man who expects nothing sees redder roses than common men can see, and greener grass, and a more startling sun. Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall possess the cities and the mountains; blessed is the meek, for he shall inherit the earth. Until we realize that things might not be we cannot realize that things are. Until we see the background of darkness we cannot admire the light as a single and created thing. As soon as we have seen that darkness, all light is lightening, sudden, blinding, and divine. Until we picture nonentity we underrate the victory of God, and can realize none of the trophies of His ancient war. It is one of the million wild jests of truth that we know nothing until we know nothing.”    (G K Chesterton, Heretics, C

 

 

 

  What do the following have in common: A word of wisdom from a friend; a quote from a late Victorian journalist, philosopher, theologian , and literary and art critic; a cover song originally written by Alanis Morissette, and my birthday? A valuable lesson in perspective, that’s what. The first and final points     of comparison serve as bookends but for our purposes, let’s start in the middle. Recently my reading regimen has not been as disciplined and I’ve been taking a bit of a shotgun approach to material mostly because I am not able to concentrate on reading and writing since losing my position at the University. Life is not the same. But having said that much I’m already getting ahead of myself. My reading has been rather sporadic and I’ve grown to love my kindle and am increasingly appreciating technological tools such as talk to text (which is how this entry is being written). In recent days I’ve returned to reading the captivating work of GK Chesterton. The other day I posted

 The nest above the front door. Open and close with care!

The passage that follows is a beautiful example of perspective, and so beautifully written! “The sense that everything is poetical is a thing solid and absolute; it is not a mere matter of phraseology or persuasion. It is not merely true, it is ascertainable. Men may be challenged to deny it; men may be challenged to mention anything that is not a matter of poetry.  I remember a long time ago a sensible sub-editor coming up to me with a book in his hand, called ‘Mr. Smith,’ or ‘The Smith Family,’ or some such thing. He said, ‘Well, you won't get any of your damned mysticism out of this,’ or words to that effect. I am happy to say that I undeceived him; but the victory was too obvious and easy. In most cases the name is unpoetical, although the fact is poetical.  In the case of Smith, the name is so poetical that it must be an arduous and heroic matter for the man to live up to it. The name of Smith is the name of the one trade that even kings respected, it could claim half the glor

  “There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only thing that can exist is an uninterested person.”  (G.K. Chesterton in “Heretics” Chapter III, “On Mr. Rudyard Kipling and Making the World Small.”)

 

 

  “Let us also produce some bold act of our own—and join the ranks of the most emulated.” (Seneca, Letters, 98.13 b)

 

 

 

 

  “We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life-those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength." -Oswald Chambers

  A wise person was known to say something like “borrow a map, but the journey is yours alone.” 

  When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces,       The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places       With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain; And the brown bright nightingale amorous Is half assuaged for Itylus, For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces,       The tongueless vigil, and all the pain. Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers,       Maiden most perfect, lady of light, With a noise of winds and many rivers,       With a clamor of waters, and with might; Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet, Over the splendor and speed of thy feet; For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers,       Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night. Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her,       Fold our hands round her knees, and cling? O that man's heart were as fire and could spring to her,       Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring! For the stars and the winds are unto her As raiment, as songs of the