Tear off the mask. Your face is glorious. —Rumi

  

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"We see the seasons pass, the moons fatten and go dark, infants grow to old men, but this is not time. 

We see the water strike against the shore and with each wave we say a moment has passed, but this is not time. Inside, we feel our strength go from a baby’s weakness to a youth’s strength to a man’s endurance to the weakness of a baby again, but this is not time, either, nor are your whiteman’s clocks and bells, nor the sun rising and the sun going down. These things are not time."

“What is it then?” said Father Damien. “I want to know, myself.” 

“Time is a fish,” said Nanapush slowly, “and all of us are living on the rib of its fin.” Damien stared at him in quizzical fascination and asked what type of fish.

“A moving fish that never stops. Sometimes in swimming through the weeds one or another of us will be shaken off time’s fin.” 

“Into the water?” asked Damien.

“No,” said Nanapush, “into something else called not time."


—Louise Erdich
The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse

 

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The Savior said, All nature, all formations, all creatures exist in 

and with one another, and they will be resolved again into their own roots.

—The Gospel of Mary Magdalene

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