Sunday, March 03, 2013
THROUGH A BROKEN GLASS, DARKLY
Listening to him I was proud and ashamed: proud he is my friend, ashamed at my lack of insight. I have been too miserable to see straight, too self-absorbed to understand my fortunes are great and my problems are picayune. The image that has been stuck in my head is dim and the mirror is broken. I've been fixed on the cracks. There is plenty that is beautiful to see.
It is probably too late to restore shine to the beautiful things I have tarnished with my sour, defeatist attitude. But that doesn't mean I should not try.