goodness like the rings of a chain, without the slightest gap.
- Singular, not plural:
Sunlight. Though broken up by walls and mountains and a
thousand other things.
Substance. Though split into a thousand forms, variously
shaped.
Life. Though distributed among a thousand different
natures with their individual limitations.
Intelligence. Even if it seems to be divided.The other components—breath, matter—lack any
awareness or connection to one another (yet unity and its
gravitational pull embrace them too).
But intelligence is uniquely drawn toward what is akin to
it, and joins with it inseparably, in shared awareness.
- What is it you want? To keep on breathing? What about
feeling? desiring? growing? ceasing to grow? using your
voice? thinking? Which of them seems worth having?
But if you can do without them all, then continue to follow
the logos, and God. To the end. To prize those other things—
to grieve because death deprives us of them—is an obstacle.