After you’ve spent a certain time gleaning in libraries and from the hearts of your neighbors, in order to learn any worthwhile thing at all you must let go. You must relinquish pride in whatever you thinks makes you human. Yes, it is a glory to be human, but it is not infinity, not been the whole of one small blue planet.
You must hike past the end of the road, for while you’re on the road you’re still in control. Adam made it; Adam’s smell pervades it. You must, as Ezekiel says, go up into the gaps. You hike past the farthest points you’ve known before. Of course it is beautiful, but that is not why you go. It may be the first step you’ve ever taken beyond, and if so you are very lucky.
Go hungry if you can.
Deep in winter, after many frosts and snows, I’ve found clusters of wild grapes on the forest floor, cold but edible and sweet. Explain that.
I know, Elisha was fed by ravens. But he saw them coming. He could say, “The ravens fed me.” I don’t know who to thank. Or why.
~David Brendan Hopes