my books... my shoes... my class... my toothbrush... my foolishness... my friend... my music... my desire... my carpet... my fingers... my cat... my tie... my patience... my time... my pencils and pens... my work...

what belongs... to me... what longs to be... me... what will i welcome in... to the circle of my possession... all this stuff... all of it... welcome or not... here it is... all mine... to the extent that i recognize it... as mine... all mine...

and none of it... mine...

None of the brothers must lay claim to anything as his own, but you are to possess everything in common; and each is to receive from the Prior - that is from the brother he appoints for the purpose - whatever befits his age and needs. (The Carmelite Rule, ch. 12)

the problems of property should be so far from a brother's thoughts... a brother should live in the pure light of god's love... mindful of nothing but this moment of grace... mindless of... a moment from now... the next step... the next breath... you know... the contemplative ideal...

but... he can't live there... or he won't... a brother (this one) has got to live in the world... and a brother doesn't always have time for these pleasant... games... or guilts... or... yes, guilts... because the ritual language is so idealistic... so pure... and a brother is not...

i own things... and that's not the half of it... things own me... but that's not always as bad as it sounds... he says... because... and then the reasons come...

but i don't mean just to talk about me and my messed up post-modern carmelite quandries... this isn't specifically a church matter... sooner or later everybody's got to deal with all this stuff... many people every day suffer radical losses... i've been spared... stuff burns down, blows away, drowns... and the clingier stuff of visions and hopes and plans... what and who we love... what we think we know... who we think we are... sooner or later has to go... and will... so the letting go becomes important... necessary... never easy but, at first (for me), doable... it gets tougher

what started this line of thought? maybe i've had a great loss or am facing some profound change... no... not at the moment (though i know they're coming... aren't they always)... no... it's mundane... i was wondering how to respond to a request that came a few days ago... an obscure (to me) east coast literary magazine (nameless here) wants to publish one of my indexes... on real paper... in their next issue

my reactions... somewhat in order...

surprise... is this for real? who would would want to publish this?

laughter... ha! somebody really wants to do this!

true delight... whoa... this is really cool... my index... published!

false humility... but it's not that good, not really finished, and... o... i am not worthy...

qualified pride... well, i did do a pretty good job with it... a labor of love... and somebody thinks it's good

suspicion... hey... what's in it for them?

uncertainty... could i end up losing my rights to it? i want to keep it free on the web...

regret... it'll take a lot of tedious time to set it up in ms word... maybe i should just decline the offer...

petty greed... besides, they can't pay me anything... didn't even offer a free copy of the magazine... what's in it for me? no one i know reads them anyway...

and that's about where i'm at right now... if you have any guidance to offer, i'm all ears... as we say

see... it's all about property... i've got something... they want it... or want to use it... under what conditions might i... let it go...

The English language is nobody's special property. It is the property of the imagination: it is the property of the language itself.

Derek Walcott

talk to me

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