Men are a mixture of yin and yang. Yin is the valley, the feminine principle; yang is the mountain, the masculine principle. Men with an excess of yang lead us to war; men with an excess of yin write poetry no one reads. We’ve been living in a yang nightmare ever since Constantine caught a vision of himself as a warrior Christ. Now, you may have noticed, things have begun to change. It’s getting quiet out there.
What if this is the case? Everything is as it should be.
We love our enemies when we have no enemies. We have no enemies when judgment stops and the blame game ends, when we extricate ourselves from the habit of making other people wrong.
The full stop, so natural and necessary, is imbedded in the creation narrative.
Sitting in the stillness this morning, a single tear plummeted down my cheek.