I'm reading Thomas Moore's book, Care of the Soul, as I continue to walk through my spiritual journey. Last night these words caught my attention: "The sacred teaching story, which has the potential of deepening the mystery of our own identity, instead is used defensively in fundamentalism, to spare us the anxiety of being an individual with choice, responsibility, and a continually changing sense of self. The tragedy of fundamentalism in any context is its capacity to freeze life into a solid cube of meaning." (p. 236)
A solid cube of meaning. Been there. Still have frostbite. May have even lost a few bits of my heart to gangrene. Little by little over the last several years, the ice cube has begun to melt. I've been through the drippy stage leaving puddles of moralism in my footprints. More recently, I've felt the raw excruciating pain of flesh coming back to life. There's still more pain to come. But there's hope. Hope of renewal. Hope for mystery. Hope in identity.