Little Explosions...

I am reading a book, a collection of philosophical essays by Iris Murdoch.  It is a slim volume published in 1970. At first I was having difficulty tracking with it, even though it is well-written, the language is plain and clear. Maybe "too much light makes the baby go blind?" I found myself reading certain passages over and over trying to penetrate the clouds swirling in my muddled head.

Towards the end of the book, little explosions have been going off everywhere. This is my book, my language, where I am, where I live. It speaks directly to me. So many powerful insights small and large. So much wisdom, plain as day, plain as a rock garden, a tree, rushing river.

It is an old book. You would think it would be out-dated. Nope. This book is totally alive today, this moment. Astonishing. Illuminating. Everything. Good. Yes, the sovereignty of good!