Limping

You are never aware of your innocence until it is wrested from you. That is the paradox about being innocent - you do not know you are until you are no longer; you cannot ever appreciate it, only pine for it, after it has been tossed into the melange of natural gifts that living takes from you, which are ground into ashphalt used to build a wall that leaves us to live with a sense of estrangement from our true selves. This place does not make sense any longer. Never again can I believe anything unless it can be said in the thin shadow the starving child, barely existing, spectral, beside the bed which bears the AIDS-ravaged body of his father. When you have seen death, you must search for a new language, as truth must filter through a new conditionality.

Sometimes we wrestle, and struggle, and grapple with life, with God, with the arcana of life. And often we walk away limping. But if we can assume the right understanding, this limp can be a comforting reminder. Jacob wrestled with God, and walked away with a limp. And later on, Jacob would acquiesce, and dwell in the fullness of God and become Israel. We always want answers, truth, now. But life is a journey, and it is not static. And sometimes we have to limp around, even if only so we walk a little slower and take the time to look around. The wrestling is part of the fulfillment and completion. And if take care, the broken bones heal to be even stronger than before the fight.

Nords