Compassion Doesn't, Of Course, Mean Feeling Sorry

When You Feel Compassion, You Dethrone Yourself From The Centre Of The World.

Religion Is A Practical Discipline And In The 17th Century In The West, We Turned It Onto A Head Trip. But It's Like Dancing, Or Swimming, Or Driving, Which You Can't Learn By Texts. You Have To Get Into The Car And Learn How To Manipulate The Vehicle.

People Knew There Were Two Ways Of Coming At Truth. One Was Science, Or What The Greeks Called Logos, Reason, Logic. And That Was Essential That The Discourse Of Science Or Logic Related Directed To The External World. The Other Was Mythos, What The Greeks Called Myth, Which Didn't Mean A Fantasy Story, But It Was A Narrative Associated With Ritual And Ethical Practice But It Helped Us To Address Problems For Which There Were No Easy Answers, Like Mortality, Cruelty, The Sorrow That Overtakes Us All That's Part Of The Human Condition. And These Two Were Not In Opposition, We Needed Both.

Illness Itself Can Make You Angry, Enraged, Furious, And It Made Me Angry, Enraged, And Furious. I Don't Think It Brought Me To God At All. It Depends How You Deal With It. And I Think That, At Its Best, Three Little Words That Always Have To Be Applied To Religion, Religion Can Help You To Deal With That.

After A Time I Found That I Could Almost Listen To The Silence, Which Had A Dimension All Of Its Own. I Started To Attend To Its Strange And Beautiful Texture, Which Of Course, It Was Impossible To Express In Words. I Discovered That I Felt At Home And Alive In The Silence, Which Compelled Me To Enter My Interior World And Around There. Without The Distraction Of Constant Conversation, The Words On The Page Began To Speak Directly To My Inner Self. They Were No Long Expressing Ideas That Were Simply Interesting Intellectually, But Were Talking Directly To My Own Yearning And Perplexity.