Monday, January 13, 2014


In my own odd way,I have always been drawn to the imperfect,the off kilter.On my desk is a hand made wooden bowl purchased at a thrift store.It is small,sort of oval ,scratched and uneven as it sits.I don't know how one makes a wooden bowl by hand but all the work involved tells me that only organic crisp lettuce ,bright red tomatoes, fresh basil and deep green parsley would be permitted to rest in its bottom.I love it and plan to take it with me into the after life.

The Japanese call this oddness,wasabi.The imperfect ,the asymmetrical ,and they add flaws to art objects to add "character".A chip in a ceramic bowl, an off centered window.I doubt if the concept applies to people, however.

All this came to mind as I jogged this morning.The only way to overcome the boredom of the track is to write a story and my thoughts went to the British writer Caryll Houselander who keeps appearing in my life although she died in 1954.

This past Friday,my group of praying ladies met at Chik-fil-a and a theme emerged:judgmental thinking.We all nodded as one of our friends described her reaction to a certain person and how judging she has been.Now,she has been led to cast those negative thoughts away and pray instead for that individual.When I got home, co-incidentally, an article came into my hands about the odd Ms.Houselander. I read of a vision she had in her teens while studying at a convent school.She observed one of the sisters who taught there.The nun was an outcast in the convent and she was weeping at the altar.Caryll saw a crown of thorns on her head.This and other visions in her life led her to understand the often hidden and unacknowledged presence of Christ in enemies as well as friends.the rich and the poor,doubters as well as believers. As a result of this and other revelations,Caryll made it her spiritual enterprise to be "Christing the world."

I think back to when I first saw her name .I immediately asked the universe what her mother was thinking.Caryll? Not Carol?If I had known more about her,would I have been repelled?Things such as the heavy white powder she wore on her face,her poverty,ill health,and neuroses.But the more I read about her life and her writing,I realize that under the cheap items, near the dirty floor and in the midst of the noise of a discount store that is my mind,I have found another treasure.

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