“My heart has become capable of every form: It is a
pasture for gazelles and a monastery for Christian monks, and the pilgrim’s
Ka’ba, and the tablets of the Torah, and the book of the Koran. I follow the
religion of Love: Whatever way love’s camel takes, that is my religion, my
faith.” Ibn Arabi (1165-1240)
In theory, for my part, whitetails perhaps. As for the
camel’s way, my truck somehow doesn’t resonate in the same manner. Ibn Arabi’s
declaration? Humbling, to be sure.
I must confess that Saturday I fell more in line with
Jonathan Swift’s (1667-1745) proclamation: "But principally I hate and detest
that animal called man, although I heartily love John, Peter, Thomas, and so
forth. This is the system upon which I have governed myself many years, but do
not tell...."
The subject was politics, a poor focus while enjoying a
meal—especially one that I did not prepare. Certainly no good came from my ill-will (or ever would),
and in the way conversations sometimes go, driven by coincidence and irony, a
reference to planks and eyes surfaced.
Yep, I had a bad case of plank-eye, and if removal was beyond
my ken, then I could think to shave off a bit of an edge later. Going forward, I
will strive to be more resolute with my attentiveness, to stage my own
intervention the moment my heart contracts.
But, the plank is 2”x6”x12’, and my plane is small in my
hands. However, a little hope exists, for “No one can grow if he does not accept
his smallness” (Pope Francis 1936--).
At least I have that going for me.
As for the vagaries of the human condition, listen to Father Zosima, from The Brothers Karamazov (Dostoyevsky
1880), quote a doctor he knew: “The more I love humanity in general the less I love man in particular.
In my dreams, I often make plans for the service of humanity, and perhaps I
might actually face crucifixion if it were suddenly necessary. Yet I am
incapable of living in the same room with anyone for two days together. I know
from experience. As soon as anyone is near me, his personality disturbs me and
restricts my freedom. In twenty-four hours I begin to hate the best of men: one
because he’s too long over his dinner, another because he has a cold and keeps
on blowing his nose. I become hostile to people the moment they come close to
me. But it has always happened that the more I hate men individually the more I
love humanity.”
So it goes—and,
yes, I got that from Vonnegut.
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