Saturday, March 14, 2009


March 13, 2009 pound
A pound of flesh. An ounce of wisdom. A pinch of salt. A ton of stuff. We sift and chip and weigh and measure. We lay our portion of life on the scale and ask the fates to put weights on the other side to tell us what its worth. Like a playground see-saw we watch the arrow bounce from one side to the other as the scale finds its balance. This earthly existence, with its weights and measures, is likely new to our very old souls. Relatively new, at least. Measuring usually involves comparisons, and that for sure is a thing of this realm. Not that this is evil. I know from the Word that we are to have darkness so we can know the light, and we have sorrow so we can appreciate joy. Contrast came with the separation of darkness and light on Day 2, after the gathering of Matter Unorganized. Way back When, before there was Adam and then Eve, before there was anyone with a body, we dreamt of today. I don’t remember of course. No one does, and we’re not supposed to. But I think a few things were across the board for all of us before we were born. We knew nothing about “time”, we had great hope in our potential when we did get bodies, and we likely did not even look at ourselves up there in our heaven space. It wasn’t until Eve looked into a glassy pond on the Western edge of Eden that she discovered she was delightful to look upon. People think it was the apple that was her downfall. No, it was that pond. Her reflection made her aware of herself (OK, I know this is random thinking, just go with it). She made note of which flower looked prettiest tucked behind her ear. It was the beginning of the fall. I have a theory about reflections. I think mirrors are actually tools of the devil (stay with me). Let’s say I am walking down the sidewalk, perfectly happy with my existence, when I happen to turn my head and see my reflection in a store window. “Eee Gad!” I say to myself, “Who is THAT?!” And I suddenly stop thinking about how I am planning to go to Ethiopia and build a school and start thinking about how pretty or not pretty I may look in the glass. When darkness is on the other side of glass, I see myself and what surrounds me in my little space. But if there is light on the other side of glass, say in a window, then what I see is the world beyond. To take the analogy further, if there is silver on the other side of glass, as in a mirror (silver representing worldliness) then we more clearly and completely see only ourselves. Light keeps all vision clear and pure. Darkness, with its shadows and reflections, makes us compare and measure. I vote for light. I feel so much prettier with light. And pounds don’t even matter.


  1. My dear Cori, I have been enjoying your postings so much. Today's post reminded me of a couple of lines from the great Stan Rogers' song, "Lies".

    Then she shakes off the bitter web she wove,
    And turns to set the mirror, gently, face down by the stove.
    She gathers up her apron in her hand,
    Pours a cup of coffee, drips Carnation from the can,
    And thinks ahead to Friday, 'cause Friday will be fine!
    She'll look up in that weathered face that loves her's, line for line,
    To see that maiden shining in his eyes
    And laugh at how her mirror tells her lies.

    For you, my dear. All the way from Pikksburgh.

  2. i love this entry and i love you...who taught me to also see beyond my reflection! and as far as pounds go...i prefer to shop with them instead of weighing them. let's go to england!

  3. Wow! Thanks for this post. Opens a whole beautiful sense of enlightenment that has been buried for some time.

    I have REALLY enjoyed soul searching and remembering and relating to your posts. You truly are the "wordsmith". I don't want "lent" to end.

  4. What a marvelously simple and profound thought--I had never considered that. I'm bubbling over with thoughts of my own now, still far too amorphous to put into words. Thank you for sharing that.

  5. I hope you don't mind, Cori, but I posted a link to this piece on my own blog. I really meant it to be a door for my friends into the rest of what you've written. I haven't had the chance to read through all of the rest, but you know you have a great gift, besides being a great girl. Looking forward to seeing you - what? In a couple of weeks, right? If you were a pair of glasses, I'd wear you, especially when my eyes get tired.