tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9218275625589637009.post4865971856550924342..comments2024-03-14T02:18:13.285-05:00Comments on T h e | D e e p | M i d d l e: Christian WimanBenjamin Vogthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10661489036836711335noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9218275625589637009.post-44669636672183855182007-09-21T10:41:00.000-05:002007-09-21T10:41:00.000-05:00Anonymous,Thanks for reading and responding. I am ...Anonymous,<BR/>Thanks for reading and responding. I am very consumed by the idea of absence, and its power to be filling and fulfilling. I like the way you describe it toward the end of your note. I BRIEFLY considered joining some monastic order during my graduate studies, and am still drawn to it in some aspects (I enjoy Kathleen Norris's book Dakota on the theme of moastic life, absence, and Benjamin Vogthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10661489036836711335noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9218275625589637009.post-58330292138681904152007-09-20T15:29:00.000-05:002007-09-20T15:29:00.000-05:00Thanks so much for writing--it is that tension isn...Thanks so much for writing--it is that tension isn't it? That balance which possesses everything of this earth that we know, the intense beauty and intense suffering, everything fades, everything dies, every geranium and marigold, or what else, ends as a dead dirt, frozen in winter. Its so... I don't know how to say it... broken but wonderful in the same moment. <BR/><BR/>I met a monk in Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com