In these pages, through encounters with the “mad monk” Rasputin and the pacifist saint Martin of Tours, through three new poems by Mary Oliver and comments, new to print, from spiritual sage John G. Bennett, through an array of art and essays and reviews, we explore the mystery of sin and expiation and forgiveness, of the journey from darkness into light.
May this issue of Parabola serve you well.
–Jeff Zaleski, Editor & Publisher
Cover Description: Detail, "The Seven Deadly Sins and the Last Four Things," Hieronymous Bosch, ca. 1500–1525. The sins are, clockwise from the 12:00 position: Gluttony, Sloth, Lust, Pride, Anger, Envy, Avarice.
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—Frederick Franck, painter, sculptor, author of more than 30 books on Buddhism and other subjects, as well as a consulting editor for Parabola, from “Behind the Mask,” The Stranger, 1995.
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Photography Credit: Ansel Adams, Pine Branch in Snow, Yosemite National Park, California, ca. 1932; gelatin silver print | http://bit.ly/12T42iK
Never a day, would there pass, where writing was set to the door due 'Task'! The Mornings, humble my Spirit sore; I remembering the prayer I hold; I know that writing rests at my door, yet I wait with heart at Hearth, for a moment of Presence from the Source! The Mornings for writing are good for me, should my Master set-forth a call, to-be, Present. Allah-Lu-yah!
First we need to discover why we do not experience silence. The simplest answer is that we are habituated to noise. We are addicted to novelty, sensation, to ourselves. Fuss and commotion, mental chattering, and outer stimulation occupy our minds from dawn to dusk. The twentieth-century Japanese Zen master Nan-in rightly noted that we are overflowing with our own ideas and opinions; to learn Zen we must first empty our minds. But there is no room for such emptiness. When one is clattering away on a keyboard sixteen hours every day, the capacious pockets of silence are kept well at bay. We thereby deafen ourselves to the underlying silence we would otherwise clearly hear.
By intentionally quieting our restless minds and calling a temporary halt to the random noise–inner and outer–to which we are subject, we create an environment conducive to the manifestations of silence. Welling up from within, this silence subtly engulfs us, drowning out all the noise of existence. The Jewish mystics refer to God as “ayin,” nothingness. When we quell the somethingness of our lives, this nothingness emerges. But as long as we dwell in the realm of substance, it remains elusive.”
–John Roger Barrie on the mystical heart of silence from our Spring 2008 issue: “Silence.”
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Art Credit: Odilon Redon "Silence," 1895-1900.
–James George, diplomat, author, and seeker in conversation with David Ulrich. Read “To Let the Light In" from our new Winter Issue: http://bit.ly/1yPCO7N
Photo: Harriet Hoctor (September 25, 1905 — June 9, 1977) as human question mark, 1920’s.
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This Bridge did open and then had to close, as the heart due 'Entertainment, was dressed-up in Circus Clothe'!
Who were these that flood the Land with pursuits of shaming the once, 'Happy-Clown'? Apparel is to 'Each-man' their own, and is best for describing conditions of Character!
Let 'clean' be your drive, thus teach be your 'respect', outside of this let 'Life' live wellness.
Luke Storms is an associate editor at Parabola magazine. He was born in the northern wilderness of Canada. When he was young, he used to think he could fly and practiced for hours by jumping off the picnic table in the backyard. He also use to build spaceships out of wood and scrap metal that his Dad had lying around and would sit in them for hours thinking that if only he believed hard enough they would fly. To this day he still hasn’t fully given up the idea that if you wish for something hard enough, it may open a door to the miraculous.
When he was a little older, he use to go public ice skating at the Memorial Arena in Belleville. “It was so cold,” he says, “that you could see everyone’s breath and the place smelled of stale sweat and hot chocolate.” He also fell down a lot because he never learned how to stop on skates and he still has a scar on his chin to this day.
He also investigates and engages in spiritual practices, like contemplation and awareness to re-member to return home and inhabit this mystery called life.
Currently, Luke lives and works within the incessant background hum of Toronto.
Thanks for visiting.
- York UniversityHumanities
- George Brown CollegeJournalism, Editing & Creative Writing