Where is the summer, the unimaginable Zero summer?
( T.S. Eliot: Little Gidding)
Good reading here on the Planned Parenthood
and loss of Imagination.
What killed her imagination? Because amidst the rightly outraged rhetoric, the grieved calls for action, and rush to a fresh apologetic for the value of unborn children, I am struck by the fact that we who hold human life to be precious at all points and certainly before birth are faced not merely with the loss of an argument. Dr. Nucatola and others like her can look at the same sum of parts that I saw in my sister, she can look at eyes just as dusky, at hands equally perfect, and with an educated mind and civilized mentality see merchandise where I see miracle.
We face a failure, not so much of rhetoric, as of imagination, that faculty that C. S. Lewis called ‘the organ of meaning’. We face a world struck by a blindness of biblical proportions in which people have physical sight, but no “in” sight, that inner viewpoint informed by the eternal by which we perceive value and depth far beyond the mere surface of things. ‘Insight’, which literally means ‘to gain an accurate, intuitive, and deep understanding of a person or thing.’
After viewing a documentary
for Emma's college recently, my heart and mind is
being challenged as I think of living as an exile.
I keep saying to myself: All who wander are not lost.
Finished watching The Gilmore Girls with its
sharp wit and humor and the story of growing up
and letting go. This is where I am.
Letting go in 3 weekends.
But what grips my heart is the very last episode
where the whole town celebrates Rory. It was
living in Stars Hollow that formed Rory to go
off and be who she was made to be.
Is there such a place?
very last scene: