A student asked me, what is the title of your first passion book?
I told him, “The Wound of Existence.”

Student= “what is wounded?”
I did not answer his question. I asked him what he thought.

He fell silent. Then he suddenly saw something, and looked at me as he voiced it.
“What is wounded? The design. The ink is smudged. Words are missing. Lines are scrambled.”

Yes, I thought, the logos of creation is undermined, troubled, reversed, by the mystery of spirit.

The ink has to be smudged, words must be missing, lines have to be scrambled, for the spirit to break in, and force us to relate to mystery. This is ‘spirit talk.’

You think you can put a design on it, or find a design that is already there, but the design is wounded.

This throws the heart in, at the deep end.
The heart is wounded by, and carries the weight of, what is absent.
The heart bears all the cost and consequences of what is present, in its place.

This is why the way the heart contends with the mystery of spirit can only be told in spirit talk.
Spirit talk tells the story of the experience of a wound.
I cannot tell you more. You know it already.

When we speak of it together, we do so to acknowledge what binds the heart to the spirit and its mystery in the sharing of a wound.