Just a few hours ago, we got as close to the center of our life force as we are going to get this year, three million (or so) miles closer than we will be in early summer.
That any of us are alive is beyond miraculous. The sun is the source of energy every thought you have, every twitch you make.
Some of us will not be here to see the sun the next time perihelion rolls around; some yet born will see the sun for the first time.
On New Year’s Day, “Pope Francis warned Christians against ‘imagining or inventing a God in the abstract’ during his Mass for the Solemnity of Mary, the Most Holy Mother of God,” as per the Vatican News.
I am not opposed to religion. It might even be innate. What destroys us is not religion per se but its abstract forms. The sun is real, its evidence seen daily, its power beyond comprehension. The Son, not so much.
Yesterday we passed as close to the sun as we will all year, a powerful “being” that drives all our motions, all our thoughts. The sun is real, The Son abstract.
Sol Invictus, mofos!