Posted in Thinking for Oneself, Uncategorized, Unquantified fragments of numbers, Yours Truly

Meditations: Piece I

 

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All Rights Reserved © mmartel∞

 

“It is with and without one, that the other finds the sum.  The two unbeknownst to me, rings truer in the dirge; its gradient death hidden within the blea. Beneath the tread to lot, beneath the tread to none…it is with and without the one, eternity naught in mediation to none.”

-MMartel

It is in the closest thoughts to the one, that one reaches a true uncovering.  To meditate in and under the life…is to pass through that which holds still.  It is in these peculiar moments in the between, where the recognizance of existence yields the verboten pome.  The answer which leads to a question, a posit held in place.  A disregard for that which one stands in front of and understands from behind.

To meditate is to see that what applies to the sum, applies to none.  Yet, it is through the sum of understanding, that which applies to none abounded becomes the sum. To meditate is to catch a momentary motion, above and through the apex that eternally sums the mount.

Whom is he which mediates in the path that enters to nothingness.  Whom is he which meditates, on the alive and the sum which breathes sustenance to form.  Whom is he which mediates, on the path of narrowest fit.  He whom grasps the hand of life, he whom grasps no nearer to the hand of passing…the bridge of meditation, the nexus evermore.

No man in exception, understands within and without.  He meditates in that which breathes life-force, to reach from point to point.  And in this in-between, the straight and narrow, he finds that which may escape him in this life.  Only, then do his thoughts become a mediation and the life-breath yields its force.

This be the life-breath, the meditations of John Donne…

 

Actio Laesa. The  strength,  and  the  function
of the Senses, and other faculties
change and faile.                         
II. MEDITATION 

THE Heavens are not the less constant, because they move continually, because they move continually one and the same way. The Earth is not the more constant, because it lyes stil continually, because continually it changes, and melts in al parts thereof. Man, who is the noblest part of the Earth, melts so away, as if he were a statue, not ofEarth, but of Snowe. We see his owne Envie melts him, he growes leane with that; he will say, anothers beautie melts him; but he feeles that a Fever doth not melt him likesnow, but powr him out like lead, like iron, like brasse melted in a furnace: It doth not only melt him, but calcine him, reduce him to Atomes, and to ashes; not to water, but to lime. And how quickly? Sooner than thou canst receive an answer, sooner than thou canst conceive the question; Earth is the center of my Bodie, Heaven is thecenter of my Soule; these two are the naturall places of those two; but those goe not to these two in an equall pace: My body falls downe without pushing, my Soule does not go up without pulling: Ascension is my Soules pace and measure, butprecipitation my bodies: And, even Angells, whose home is Heaven, and who are winged too, yet had a Ladder to goe to Heaven, by steps. The Sunne who goes so many miles in a minut, the Starres of the Firmament, which go so very many more, goe not so fast, as my body to the earth. In the same instant that I feele the first attempt of the disease, I feele the victory; In the twinckling of an eye, I can scarse see, instantly the tast is insipid, and fatuous; instantly the appetite is dull and desirelesse: instantly the knees are sinking and strengthlesse; and in an instant, sleepe, which is thepicture, the copie of death, is taken away, that the Originall, Death it selfe may succeed, and that so I might have death to the life. It was part of Adams punishment,In the sweat of thy browes thou shalt eate thy bread: it is multiplied to me, I have earned bread in the sweat of my browes, in the labor of my calling, and I have it; and I sweat againe, and againe, from the brow, to the sole of the foot, but I eat no bread, I tast no sustenance: Miserable distribution of Mankind, where one halfe lackes meat, and the other stomacke.


Source :
Donne, John. The Complete Poetry and Selected Prose of John Donne.
Charles M. Coffin, Ed. New York: Modern Library, 1952. 416-417.

 

All Rights Reserved © mmartel∞

Author:

"If he's honest, he'll steal; if he's human, he'll murder; if he's faithful, he'll deceive. Being at a loss to resolve these questions, I am resolved to leave them without any resolution." I have so much to say to you that I am afraid I shall tell you nothing."

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