old words

I’ve been reading Barlaam and Josaphat, translated by Peggy McCracken.  Strangely, it keeps reminding me of The Little Prince — something about all the dialogues in this poignant parabolic light, the brightly colored simplicity of the words, and the sudden touching candor — where here and there, it says just what it means.


I don’t think our world outgrows old words.  A really eternal life, I read elsewhere this evening, is not only a quantity in length but a quality in depth.  It is easy to lose this understanding and grasp at every scant elongation along a {radically & inescapably} curtailed plane as the essence of ‘life’ — at the cost of life’s depth. Perhaps this is even easier in a technologically advanced age, where extension of self is possible along all sorts of undimensioned surfaces.  Barlaam and Josaphat is about life as a ‘quality in depth’.


This particular candid statement (set in the ‘featured image’) struck me, centuries later — true, if I can receive it.  But it was difficult to receive centuries ago.

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