tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3640391300493981660.post8833133878731933148..comments2012-12-17T15:24:15.973-08:00Comments on Desiderata: Pure SnowAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17710640448437561729noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3640391300493981660.post-33719896349753543522012-03-03T22:14:25.897-08:002012-03-03T22:14:25.897-08:00Your comment was really lovely, as lovely as any p...Your comment was really lovely, as lovely as any poem. Thank you for the insight and the experience.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17710640448437561729noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3640391300493981660.post-12944230494069252772012-02-22T09:50:29.394-08:002012-02-22T09:50:29.394-08:00You've beautifully described the distance that...You've beautifully described the distance that comes when we ignore the details; When we blissfully gloss over the sharp or dark or colorful edges of mortality. When we numb our feelings, flake by flake, and insulate our minds and hearts to experience that is life. With words you've painted our self-rationalized barrier. The glass wall created by cognitive dissonance that Festinger described as decreasing propinquity. We instinctively wrap ourselves in layers of mental insulation, desperately clutching at every distraction for our eyes and minds. We grasp any protection from the cold, uncomfortable, razored edges of reality. Eventually we build walls and stand firm in fortress of our deluded convictions. But still we hurt. Silent and alone we ache for something, anything that will chip away at the ice surrounding our hearts ... my heart. I've mistaken my protector, my champion, my solitude. In doing it I've locked myself in a prison built with my own hands. There is no sin in the clearest water, no sin in the heart of the pure. True innocence nurtures purity and from purity grows joy. I've mistaken ignorance for innocence.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com