The Space Between: A Memoir of Life A Meditation on What Endures I am a hustler who traffics in the dispersal of lives, who moves with practiced grace through the archaeology of abandoned dwellings, who speaks fluently the language of strangers appraising what they cannot comprehend— yet ability and purpose remain forever estranged bedfellows. One may possess extraordinary mastery over that which the soul would never elect, were the universe to offer a blank page and whisper: Build thyself anew . Estate sales are a particular species of melancholy, a requiem written in furniture and forgotten things. They are the final accounting, the ledger of a life concluded, and they render me contemplative in ways language has not yet furnished. But look deeper, and you perceive not mere chattels and domestic vessels. You perceive evidence —the material testimony of a consciousness that has ceased. Every coffee mug, worn smooth by ten thousand mornings, carries within its glazed surfac...
Psalm of Gaudium The Psalm of Sacred Joy --- Ave, Ave, Ave. --- I. The Invocation Ave to the joy that rises like the morning sun. Ave to the laughter that springs from the living heart. Ave to the gladness that asks nothing and gives everything. Ave to the delight that dwells in the simplest moments. Ave to the happiness that is not earned but received. Ave to the radiance that shines through the soul's open door. Ave to the song that sings itself before words are found. Ave to the joy that dances upon the wind, carrying laughter from one soul to another. Ave to the joy that glows within the hearth, warming all who gather near. Ave to the joy that sparkles in the rain, a thousand diamonds falling from the sky. Ave to the joy that blooms within the garden, each flower a celebration of being. Ave to the joy that moves through the forest, the rustle of leaves, the play of light and shadow. Ave to the joy that rides the waves of the sea, the endless ...