Silk screen by Ilona Staples
Crossing the Return Threshold
Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob, who turns the rock into a pool of water, the flint into a spring of water.
What if God language is not a matter of belief, but a decision to use symbols to point to profound experience?
My last day of work had come after decades of designing software for the Space Shuttle. My desk was cleaned out, my personal belongings boxed up in the car. I walked across the street for the final exit process. I entered a room with a circle of tables manned by human resources staff who themselves would soon be leaving the United Space Alliance.
My badge dangled from my neck. On it was my picture, the name of my company, and a magnetic stripe that gave me access to my office, the buildings, and NASA’s computers. If there was a single symbol informing me of who I was, it was dangling from my neck
The sea looked and fled, Jordan turned back. The mountains skipped like rams, the hills like lambs
I took the badge from my neck and gave it away. The building’s walls fell around me, and I walked out. I was disoriented. It was as though a giant flood had washed the entire shuttle complex down the rapidly receding river.
I felt the air moving in and out of my lungs. I stood for a moment with the sun on my face. Everything is utterly and completely transient. What a glorious mystery is this strange existence! Ahead I saw a pool of spring water. I headed towards it.