Orthodixie

[Meditations are intended to be read sequentially, from 1 to 33.]

Again on the Hill …

The longer we stay here, the less we ask. The longer we stay here, the less we ask. The longer we stay here, the less we ask.

The longer we stay here, the more we find ourselves looking into the eyes of our beloved, the man on the Tree. Our souls seem wedded to his — and our bodies begin to obey our souls, his.

The questions. How is it that one is filled by emptying? How is it that one is happy yet crying? How is it that one is life-giving while dying?

The longer we stay here …

The doubts. “If you are the Son of God, come down from the Cross and save yourself,” a voice cries.

Our eyes must ask the question … for he again, with love, dies.

[Meditations are intended to be read sequentially, from 1 to 33.]

In the Garden?

It is hard to make out all that has happened. Too much partying. life is a blur. All is a blur. Our minds are clouded. Where are we?

Ahead, we see a shape. “Who’s there?”

No answer. Can’t be the creature — for he has an answer for everything!

We slowly approach. If our eyes don’t deceive us, it looks like a tree.

Is it a tree?

Yes.

Is this tree, we now see, in the Garden? Or, is this the one on the Hill?

The calf only stares; the creature has disappeared.

There is no blood. There is no fruit.

Only a dead and barren — lifeless — tree in the Wilderness.

With great fear we look around us. We are truly alone. No fantasies, no gold, no friends, no hope.

It’s just us … and a mirror.

A mirror.

We, the tree.

[Meditations are intended to be read sequentially, from 1 to 33.]

Again in the Wilderness …

The beautiful creature is a wonderful guide, very intelligent. He has taught us that we can partake of heavenly fruit — even in the Wilderness. All we have to do is think. “Bring the fruit to mind.” In so doing, we conjure up fantasy. Lustful fantasy. Hateful fantasy. We can build palaces of gold and silver, filled with riches, in our minds.

“Must we go back to the Garden?” we ask.

“No my child, you can have it all in the Wilderness.”

No longer alone in the Wilderness … thanks to the beautiful creature and the calf of gold.

[Meditations are intended to be read sequentially, from 1 to 33.]

Again in the Wilderness …

We are beginning to get accustomed to the Wilderness. It isn’t life. It isn’t death. It just is.

We can see the Garden; the fruits — Life?

We can see the Hill; the Tree, the man — Life?

The questions plague us … (till death do us part).

No. It is better to just stay in the Wilderness. Here there is no salvation or damnation. No Satan, sin, and death. No faith, hope, and charity. No day. No night. Neither naked or royally clothed. We are alone and at peace. The beautiful creature has journeyed with us into the Wilderness. All is well.

[Meditations are intended to be read sequentially, from 1 to 33.]

Again in the Wilderness …

“Don’t want to go to the Hill. Involves commitment.”

The Garden is much better. It requires nothing but your presence. The beautiful creature is a wonderful host. He is so smart, cunning, and encouraging. He makes us feel good, godlike.

We find the Hill generally depressing. “Except when there,” whispers our soul — but, we know better. What good is a soul? Does it feed you? Thrill you? Does the soul ever dance, sing, or laugh?

Doubt.

Doubting in the Wilderness. We’re tired. Our memory races toward the past. The man who claimed to be king. The sinful pleasures of the Garden. The bitter deeds brought on by the beautiful fruit. The dying man. The blood. The Tree. Which tree?