Thursday, December 16, 2010

human hosepipe.

I will not say much beyond 
the fact that heartache
is inescapable, probably necessary to ultimate happiness,
and positively rampant in my little household. 

So let us turn to our ever-wise friend and posthumous mentor, Clive Staples,  for a bright and beautiful thought my dear dear friend, Jacob, blessed me with the beauty of:
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.
-C.S. Lewis

Ah, wisdom. It's delicious, is it not?
My roommate showed me this gorgeous video made by a BYU Professor that captures so perfectly the essence of relationships. And the wonderful Weepies' lyrics can never hurt:


So here's to vulnerability, still missing him every every minute, and this beautiful world that still spins madly on,
Banana

2 comments:

David Harrison Smith said...

If I had something to say, would it be enough?
You inspire too much not to give me reason. So here it is:

One man wrote your history for a time.
Since, it was you who gave him the pen.
But God gave you the paper first.
So forget not, that it is you who writes your history.

And your ink will remember the warmth of its owner;
And fill the gaps in the syntax with a tense more bold than the past.
That you may understand your own Author, and give your pen to the One that will last.

Love, David Harrison Smith

brielle? said...

i relate.

and i love the quote.

Carry

I want to carry you
and for you to carry me
the way voices are said to carry over water.

Just this morning on the shore,
I could hear two people talking quietly
in a rowboat on the far side of the lake.

They were talking about fishing,
then one changed the subject,
and, I swear, they began talking about you.

Billy Collins


that's all, folks

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