an image diary

"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"

"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."

"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

. . .


Galesburg, Overpass #1

"Faith provokes the intelligence--it triggers a deeper research." --Fr Didier

Or not. I can live faith as though I am living towards my dreams, my family meaningful enough, my work meaningful enough, my suffering shitty but meaningful enough, inasmuch as I share that common bond with those I love and in whom I place my faith, hope for the best, and cross my fingers that all will be well according to the barometer of achieving once more an equilibrium of feeling well enough, content enough, and strong enough. Where it is not enough, I have failed myself and failed those around me--in courage, autonomy, and emotional maturity--and where it is beyond my control, and where I react to it compulsively--rashly--it is merely my dysfunction, a psychological and cultural wound I can understand, describe, analyze, but cannot seem to heal between us, even after years of poking around in the darker parts of myself with an analyst, a therapist, a physician, a friend or two, my mother, for I would do it again: hold you--all of you--suspect against the greater meaning of my life, which I must protect at all costs, myself, my work, my family, which I conceive as my greater end--given there is nothing more--and against which you are othered in suspense until you prove trustworthy.

"Can my family be everything to me? My husband? Can another person be my end? It is a big question." --Fr Didier
"I hate talking with Catholics. They give you dogmas and tradition, but they're not thinking." --Fr Didier
"Before I can raise a family, a child, I would want to know what it is I am raising. Children are great seekers. They want to know. 'Why?' 'Well because.' 'Why?' Well, because.' 'Why?' 'Because, and that is all.' Is it right for me to lead my child to narrow his search? What are the consequences of closing down the interrogations? How do I love someone if I don't know what or who they [sic] are? Love triggers a search for the One whom we cannot see--for I cannot see love. I cannot love my brother if I do not know who he is--we've got to be very intelligent to avoid hurting someone. " --Fr Didier

"and what is the use of a book...without pictures or conversations?"

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