Yesterday had a meeting with my potential mentor/advisor up in Berkeley. We talked about story-telling has the connection between theory and action! And, we talked about spirituality...
This morning, I found this in Oliver's Winter Hours.
What I mean by spirituality is not theology, but attitude. Such interest nourishes me beyond the finest compendium of facts. In my mind now, in any comparison of demonstrated truths and unproven but vivid intuitions, the truths lose. . . .I would therefore write a kind of elemental poetry. . . I would not talk about the wind, and the oak tree, and the leaf on the oak tree, but on their behalf. I would talk about the owl and the thunderworm and the daffodil and the red-spotted newt as a company of spirits, as well as bodies. I would say that the fox stepping out over the snow has nerves as fine as mine, and a better courage. I would write praise poems that might serves as comforts, reminders, or even cautions if needed, to wayward minds and unawakened hearts.
Reminds me of this Oliver poem from "Thirst":
when I sleep I feel you near.
When I wake, and you are already wiping the stars away,
I rise quickly, hoping to be like your wild child
the rose, the honey-maker the honey-vine;
a bird shouting its joy as it floats
through the gift you have given us; another day.