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What do I have a GIVENNESS NOW to?

Riddle me this.

“The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man.”  G.K. Chesterton, Introduction to ‘The Book of Job’

…when is a riddle more satisfying than a solution?

I have a GIVENNESS NOW to riddle me this.

What do I have a GIVENNESS NOW to?

The misery of me and not the tree.


“Man is so great that his greatness appears even in knowing himself to be miserable.

A tree has no sense of its misery.

It is true that to know we are miserable is to be miserable; but to know we are miserable is also to be great.  Thus all of the miseries of man prove his grandeur; they are the miseries of a dignified person, the miseries of a monarch.

What can this incessant craving and this impotence of attainment mean, unless there was once a happiness belonging to a man, of which only the faintest trace remain, in that void which he attempts to fill with everything within his reach?”  Blaise Pascal, Pensees

…to know we are miserable.

I have a GIVENNESS NOW to the misery of me and not the tree.

What do I have a GIVENNESS NOW to?

Undressing invisible me.


“All sin starts from the assumption that my false self, the self that exists only in my egocentric desires, is the fundamental reality of life to which everything else in the universe is ordered.

Thus I use up my life in the desire for pleasures and the thirst for experiences, for power, honor, knowledge, and love to clothe this false self and construct its nothingness into something objectively real.  

And I wind experiences around myself and cover myself with pleasures and glory like bandages in order to make myself perceptible to myself and to the world, as if I were an invisible body that could only become visible when something visible covered its surface.”  Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

A cover up?






…the revealing.

I have a GIVENNESS NOW to undressing invisible me.

What do I have a GIVENNESS NOW to?

Move me midst my memories mourned.



I’ve got my memories, always inside of me,
But I can’t go back, back to how it was.
I believe you now, I’ve come too far
No, I can’t go back, back to how it was.
Switchfoot, This Is Home

My memories…

Rewound.  Replayed.  Remembered.



When the “old self” can be mourned for who he was and who he was not, the “new self” can then be borne for who he is and who he is not.


…when I want both, I have neither. 

…when I have both, I want neither.



Constantly coming from…but not without looking back while leaving, grieving ghosts, and questioning quests, before belonging and becoming.


That was then.…and this is now. 

This is now...because that was then. 



Gazing in gratitude and grief.

Leaving in the liberation of loss.



I am moved.



I have a GIVENNESS NOW to move me midst my memories mourned.