I have been aware for some time that spiritual pursuits by their very nature move in the direction of the not, the naught, the shadow, the mystery- everything that isn't, at the moment.
In a vengeful culture, religion of love arises. In a glutted culture, religion of ....
News flash! There is a family of baby rabbits drinking heartily from the irrigation leak in our back yard (it is true, as I write). That is wonderful religion for today. I am headed off to the zendo of art to make tiny horses and cow skulls (mu) out of clay. I have no purpose in mind for these, but one will arise, it always does.
1 comment:
The purpose arose! The cow sculls ar the rays of a sun, a skeleton is the middle, and is smoking a cigarette! The Marlboro man.
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