I Don't Think I Have Nerves Of

I Don't Think I Have Nerves Of Steel, Far From It, But I Can Certainly Stand Up To Things. I Am Not Afraid To Look Suffering Straight In The Eyes.

A Desire To Kneel Down Sometimes Pulses Through My Body, Or Rather It Is As If My Body Has Been Meant And Made For The Act Of Kneeling. Sometimes, In Moments Of Deep Gratitude, Kneeling Down Becomes An Overwhelming Urge, Head Deeply Bowed, Hands Before My Face.

By 'coming To Terms With Life' I Mean: The Reality Of Death Has Become A Definite Part Of My Life; My Life Has, So To Speak, Been Extended By Death, By My Looking Death In The Eye And Accepting It, By Accepting Destruction As Part Of Life And No Longer Wasting My Energies On Fear Of Death Or The Refusal To Acknowledge Its Inevitability. It Sounds Paradoxical: By Excluding Death From Our Life We Cannot Live A Full Life, And By Admitting Death Into Our Life We Enlarge And Enrich It.

To Live Fully, Outwardly And Inwardly, Not To Ignore The External Reality For The Sake Of The Inner Life, Or The Reverse, That's Quite A Task

Sometimes My Day Is Crammed Full Of People And Talk And Yet I Have The Feeling Of Living In Utter Peace And Quiet. And The Tree Outside My Window, In The Evenings, Is A Greater Experience Than All Those People Put Together.