I'm listening to the birds in the garden and the Lark Ascending inside and they're dueling in beautiful geometric ways. Two dogs are lying on my legs; the spotted one is staring at me, her lazy eye struggling to focus. J is up and about, cleaning his guns, bringing me cups of tea, with cold hands.
Today is the most important day in the Christian calendar and I find myself still questioning constantly my faith. I shall go to church this morning, something I love and miss, for the music, the quiet, but I still struggle with the traditional Judao-Christian notion of God. I believe in a big, complicated, harmonious world, where all things are linked to all things, where our actions have causes. We are guardians of the earth and it is our responsibility to keep it pristine. God is not a beatific omnipotent presence, in my childish heart, but the embodiment of all the beauty and love and hope in the world and of the miraculous possibilities that lay out there. God is this -- the spring, the new birth, the budding trees, the mad genius of nature. And, I believe, it is our responsibility to each other to behave morally, kindly, with love, to (as immortally captured by Thelwell in his cartoon of the little girl offering her pony a lick of her ice cream cone) to treat others as we would wish to be treated. I look forward to being in church today just really to say thank you for all of this. There is such heady optimism in Spring. It makes one feel awfully puffy-chested and incredibly, microscopically small at the same time.
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