Advent time. I left eating meat in my early youth. I started with following strong restrictions of the church (my dear parents were contra of course and now when I remember their behavior of that time I am smiling even at the terrible scenes – each time they demonstrated the best of their souls) and soon discovered with the help of some book that from 365 days of the year 246 days are fast days if you follow all fasts of the year and fast days in a week. So of course Lev Tolstoy and India but without troubling the eastern traditions I organically changed my fast system into my own philosophy and style of life. And it was the Golden Age of nourishment in all sides. Alexandra didn’t know meat or poultry even in her intraperational course and later. She had been brought in the spirit of love to all living beings and she considered animals and birds to be her friends. So when the time of naming things with their names came I had to follow my own school. I was so thankful for her that she was not even interested a little at least about the others, about the rest of the world. Later she told me that she just always thought that her family was extraordinary.
It was ten years ago when we decided with her that time to eat any food. Four years later we came back to church. Today preparing myself for the Advent I see what things I should get as objectives. First I should keep meals. The point is in another time I pay no attention to food at all. I simply forget. And there should have been a person for me to tell about food or to whom I should tell about meals. Fast taught me to be careful with myself and this is the first. The second is to start regular meditations and systematical reading of books on art of poetry. And the third (do not see more now) is to help as much as I should Al. with her life in girlhood items.
I am terribly missing here in my temple of Your Advent.
3 comments:
How do you know me?
But if I'm not mistaken I know you too.
I want to come and dance with you and learn your holy madness.
It was the Day of Your Ribs Breathing when I met you. I am from that breath of yours that only you know. Breath from on High drowned in my blood.
I am not alive while I am not being looked at from this High. As if in your retina there is my lumbar and plexus and cervical. You chastise me with scorpions but I continue love you – because only in your eyes I see my face.
Yes, you are right - I must live. But you perfectly know it’s impossible.
Until you bring your holiness to dance
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