it’s about time.

Yes, yes it is.  It’s all about time that I don’t think I have, that I really do.

This week has been full of Magick.  Maybe it’s because of the fallish weather, the great Somethings in the air…the “Idea of Autumn” as C. S. Lewis would say.  Maybe it’s because of the sweet hours of prayer I’ve been able to spend, just basking in truth.  Maybe it’s because of renewed hope in my heart. Maybe it’s because of the refreshing presence of forever friends and coffee and violins.

I think it’s all of these things.   These things are my life, they are my sustenance, they are so very me.  And when I spend time in them, I am refreshed and stretched and grown – cultivated.  I think that I had forgotten how deeply important it is for me to worship the way I was specifically created to worship, and sing the melodies I was meant to sing, and enjoy the beauty that was intended for me to enjoy. I am still a person without such things,

but what good is the dull chisel to the Sculptor?

{  “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.”  }

I really do have time for beauty. I don’t care if credit hours and fundraisers and professionalism stack up over my head – life is too big and too wonderful to shut out the colors.



Besides the autumn poets sing,

A few prosaic days

A little this side of the snow

And that side of the haze.


A few incisive mornings,

A few ascetic eves,—

Gone, Mr. Bryant’s golden-rod,

And Mr. Thomson’s sheaves.


Still is the bustle in the brook,

Sealed are the spicy valves;

Mesmeric fingers softly touch

The eyes of many elves.


Perhaps a squirrel may remain,

My sentiments to share.

Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind,

Thy windy will to bear!

-Emily Dickinson.



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