Cruelty is a mystery, and the waste of pain. But if we describe a world to compass these things, a world that is a long, brute game, then we bump against another mystery: the inrush of power and light, the canary that sings on the skull. Unless all ages and races of men have been deluded by the same mass hypnotist (who?), there seems to be such a thing as beauty, a grace wholly gratuitous. . . . The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.
— Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
Isn't this lovely, and doesn't it get to the essence of life? When all else fails my rational mind, I always come back to the undeniable bounty, including beauty, that comes from grace. Does it ever need to be more complicated than that? In my better moments, I think that it would be sufficient to spend a life in gratitude and awe.
ReplyDeleteI don't think it needs to be more complicated, George, well said.
DeleteWhat a beautiful interchange between you and George to compliment this post, Ruth. The least we can do is try to be there.
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