Vi venter på døden, lige så stille & uden anstrengelse, den første & sidste lethed, det eneste lydløse vingeslag, hvor hjertet åbner & gensidigt opløses med alle ting.
Alle ting som skal ryddes op – møbler, støv, kompost & digte i rudekuverter, spredt over store afstande af storme & tyngdekraft, glemte eller gemte bag støvede reoler, langs tavse paneler – løfter sig stille op mod nattens lys, mod erindringens lykkelige facit, mod det heles begyndelse, i tidløs duvende kædedans.
I tidløs duvende kædedans ser vi hinanden, som første gang, med undrende blik & genkendelsens glæde, og vi kender ikke andet end dét. Vi kender alt gennem dét – genkendelsens glæde & undrende blik, og her stopper digtet. Og her flyder det ustandseligt videre. Og jeg lægger pennen & teksten rejser sig, og vi med den, mens vi venter på døden.
Great-martyr Phanurius the Newly Appeared of Rhodes
Commemorated on August 27 / September 9
“Little is known of the holy Martyr Phanurius, except that which is depicted concerning his martyrdom on his holy icon, which was discovered in the year 1500 among the ruins of an ancient church on Rhodes, when the Moslems ruled there. Thus he is called “the Newly-Revealed.” The faithful pray to Saint Phanurius especially to help them recover things that have been lost, and because he has answered their prayers so often, the custom has arisen of baking the Phaneropita (‘Phanarius-Cake’) as a thank-offering.” (Great Horologion)
There is a tradition that his mother was a great sinner, and that he was unable to convert her in her lifetime. After her death he prayed more for her salvation than for his own. As he was being stoned to death, he prayed: ‘For the sake of these my sufferings, Lord, help all those who will pray to Thee for the salvation of Phanurius’ sinful mother.’ So, in Egypt, where he is much revered, many Christians pray ‘O Lord, save Phanurius’ mother and help me, a sinner.’
There is a place deep within the heart of a person into which Satan cannot see, neither penetrate (for, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God). And there, the troubled soul can find a peace which passes all understanding; there the wounds from the arrows of the evil-one can find balm and healing, and the arrows cannot penetrate there to wound one again. Here, one does not pray with words or even with actions, but one weeps and the teardrops themselves are prayer and confession and rejoicing and hope fulfilled. Here, there is already a communication between God and the soul which is outside the realm of the laws of nature. Here, every thought is known and every movement of the heart is incense rising up up to the Creator. Here, one finds the Holy Spirit and understands something of the potential of the soul which longs to cooperate with God’s Grace, and perceives that only its sins form a barricade to that complete cooperation which it so earnestly desires. Here, one cannot remain, no matter how one longs to – longs even to die if, by that, it could remain in this deep place in the heart, being “this day in paradise with Me”. And this, of course, is only a shadow of what is yet to come for those who persevere to the end.
One of my favorite songs from when I was a child. Written by Gerry Rafferty in 1978
Winding your way down on Baker Street Light in your head and dead on your feet Well, another crazy day You’ll drink the night away And forget about everything This city desert makes you feel so cold It’s got so many people, but it’s got no soul And it’s taken you so long To find out you were wrong When you thought it held everything
You used to think that it was so easy You used to say that it was so easy But you’re trying, you’re trying now Another year and then you’d be happy Just one more year and then you’d be happy But you’re crying, you’re crying now
Way down the street there’s a light in his place He opens the door, he’s got that look on his face And he asks you where you’ve been You tell him who you’ve seen And you talk about anything He’s got this dream about buying some land He’s gonna give up the booze and the one-night stands And then he’ll settle down In some quiet little town And forget about everything
But you know he’ll always keep moving You know he’s never gonna stop moving ‘Cause he’s rolling, he’s the rolling stone And when you wake up, it’s a new morning The sun is shining, it’s a new morning And you’re going, you’re going home
Linealen spændes stadig hårdere og hårdere. For den politiske korrekthed med al sin krænkelseshunger. For de selvbestaltede minoriteter med deres døv-skingre insisteren på inflydelsesprimat, alene grundet i deres egen helt særlige selviscenesættelse, det være i henseende til sprog, farve, køn, seksuel orientering, kulinarisk præference eller hvad ved jeg – listen er uendelig og stadig in processu… Landskabet for særlige hensyn er grænseløst og altid i stadig udvidelse, som konen der fra sin muddergrøft forlanger stadig større domæner for sin indflydelse.
Så vi læner os tilbage. Åbner en pose peanuts og en dåse øl, spændt ventende på, at det hele dilettanteriet knækker, eller virkeligheden smækker tilbage med en lussing så hård, at der i et øjeblik kun sanses måne og stjerner og usikkerhed om tid og sted. Så kan vi måske begynde at tale fornuftigt sammen? Vi har masser af tid, og den iboende orientering om hvad der er op og ned i denne verden har tålmodighed til endnu megen evolution. Det skulle da bare mangle.
Jordan Bernt Peterson (born June 12, 1962) is a Canadian clinical psychologist, social commentator, scholar, and author. He is a professor of psychology at the University of Toronto. After 2016, he gained attention for his outspoken views on cultural and political issues.
A little something about Hans Eysenck and how extraversion and neuroticism, positive and negative emotions aren’t oppposites, but seperate biological systems, and how you by and large simply need to learn to live with it. Isn’t that nice to know?