oh, the magic

The fading light. The lilacs (which appear to have finished already in Michigan, but here are in their prime). The last tulips. The crackle-bright reflection of sun on water. Maple leaves hanging heavy with color.

May does this to me, throws me into this space of wonder. I walk around sniffing life on the air, like a pup. I settle into patches of afternoon glow.

I spent the day reading a book called Suffering by German liberation theologian Dorothee Soelle. My margins are full of pencilled questions, but one thing I absolutely agree with: sacrifice is only meaningful when that which is sacrificed is valued. Stoicism (a studied refusal to be affected by pain) and masochism (a desire for pain for itself or for its effects) are utterly inadequate in the light of this world's beauty. The heights of delight and the depths of sorrow go hand in hand, as our capacity to appreciate, to enjoy, indeed, to love opens us up to the possibility of disappointment, sorrow, and suffering-with.

Would we have it any other way?