Tag: letters

  • WTF Does “Give It Up to God” Mean?

    First, you must understand attachment and detachment. Desire itself and the thing that is desired are two different things. Detachment is to experience the desire — and all the feelings and thoughts that come with it — separately from the desired thing; to feel desire but not attach it to some outcome.

    Once desire is detached from any object, a strange emptiness is felt. Simone Weil calls this “the void.” Others call it a “God-sized hole.”

    Experiencing the void does not make God come to us, but it opens the door and invites him. With wisdom beyond ours, he decides whether to enter or speak.

    Simply, to give it up to God is to feel the desire but not reason or think about the thing that is desired. In that empty space, wait for God.

    This is difficult to do, even for just a couple minutes. Try. Let it be prayer. You might experience a great deal of peace in letting go of yourself.

    And what of the physical feelings — the trembling hands, the pounding heart, the cramped gut — how do you give those to God? Love in spite of them. It’s not easy, but it is the way.

  • Crow on a Traffic Cone

    This animal, as smart as a machine, watches the whole world with a few slight twists of its neck, yet never loses sight of the carrion.

    It perches atop a nicked, scuffed, bright orange traffic cone; another of man’s inventions that wail out over all the rest of the natural world.

    The crow doesn’t care. But I do. Why do we insist on maximums? Why are we so loud? And where is the place untouched by hype? I want to go there.

    I am not at home here, among man’s inventions and machinations. I am at home where nature is observed, not trampled. I am at home among lovers, not CEOs. I am at home where freedom reigns, not frictionless transactions.

    Carrion belongs to scavengers. I carry on.

  • My Contribution to Journalism

    There’s a lot of journalism about the dark things. That’s important because we can’t be whole until we integrate what is in our shadows and we can’t integrate what is in our shadows until they are illuminated.

    But I have something else to report. This can be my contribution to journalism.

    There are beautiful walkways cloaked in fresh air. And as the sun sets, the clouds have turned pink and purple and orange at the same time. And there’s a sycamore tree that has seen more sameness than I ever will. And two fawns are having a bedtime snack in a field. And the air is cool, but not enough for a sweater. And the moon is half, and the color of half and half.

    Broadcasting from just north of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, I’m Joseph Kreydt. To all the dark places and to all the light, good night.