screw Descartes

I still have a sense of choking on all the things I want to say, both when friends ask how I'm doing and when I sit down to write emails or blog. This has been such a full intensive, so full of good things. I hadn't realized how hungry I was to have physicality back in my corporate worship, but the class on ritual that I'm taking has really fed that need as we've practiced the ordinances. Water, bread, juice, oil... I like Quakers, for the most part, but I can't know my faith by closing my eyes and looking inward all the time. I need to taste the juice, see the baptismal water reflecting the sunlight, smell the frankincense and myrrh and olives on my forehead.

My body and my spirit don't have separate faiths, and to feed my spirit on the mysterious things of God and my body only on practical potluck foods doesn't make sense to me. I need to know my faith in my body, as much as in my spirit.

I'm really looking foward to Love Feast on Friday. I have more I could say, but people are talking loudly in the computer lab and I can't think. Who are these jerks, anyway? I would never even consider talking in here when someone's trying to work.