A poem from the Writer's Almanac about a week ago. It's been stewing in me ever since. Why the first line is fascinating isn't a particular mystery--this is the first September since 1954 that I won't trot off to school. But after that it isn't particularly autobiographical.
Or is it? "The mind that is not baffled is not employed." If there's anything that scares me, it's people who claim they know the whole truth. The doubters I can live with, the complainers I can tolerate, the skeptics?--I'm one of them.
"The impeded stream is the one that sings," and, I might add, the one far more interesting, even nourishing, to the fish.
Maybe it's the fact that behind all those sentiments lies to a Christian mind--Wendell Berry. Maybe that's it. It's not a sin to be unsure, not a sin to be baffled.