Found this poem in the waiting area at the Episcopal Diocese office here in Arizona.  Somehow it relates to this topic.

To My Medial Prefrontal Cortex

Isabel Galbraith

People who have positive illusions are less likely to be depressed. . . . There are risks, however, in maintaining illusions that are too out of whack.  – Timothy D, Wilson

When I first heard of you, my scout,

Spinning, glossing, scrubbing out

Harsh facts about myself—the grout

                And plaque of melancholy—

I welcomed you, my little sprout

Of green and glossy holly.

Within your songs, you troubadour,

I'm Mark Twain, not James Fennimore,

Kristin Wig, not Drew Barrymore,

Marley, not Cheech or Chong;

I’m touchable waves, not pompadour,

Bikini, not sarong.

But now I know you’re there I’m scared.

What buried thoughts have not been bared?

What temporary awarenesses aired

                Then were shut up in their towers?

I don’t want to be unprepared

                For life’s cold thundershowers.

So don’t puff me up to astronaut,

Or Guinevere of Camelot,

Or world’s best boss, Sir Michael Scott—

                The let-down’s suicidal

As Dangle and his banjo not

                Making American Idol.

And so, tonight, I try to view

Myself as all outsiders do.

I shut you off; now I’m see-through

                As a window in the dark,

And in the mirror I’m 32

                And what is soft is stark:

Dumb jokes my friends indulge me in,

New wrinkles in my oily skin,

The joie de vivre that I trade in

                For grouchiness at home,

Lost time that I could have spent

                Working on a poem,

Dumb poems about the slightest things,

A pen that’s lost and long-lost flings –

They hurt, but what really stings

                Is when I add it up:

No roommates and no wedding ring,

                No money, book, or cup. . . .

I’m definitely glad you’re there,

Protecting me from this despair,

The bruises my ego would otherwise wear,

                Believing it deserved them.

You help me function, help me dare,

                Steel nerves when life unnerves them.

The trouble is, we must – like flowers –

Receive the right amount of showers

And sun to pull new blooms from bowers.

                To help us be us

The inner eye’s more sweet than sour: 

Ourselves as loved ones see us

From: John Cock <jpc2025@triad.rr.com>
Subject: Re: [Dialogue] The Grand Design
To: "'Colleague Dialogue'" <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net>
Date: Sunday, May 20, 2012, 1:32 PM

Rather delicious trialog, Paul. Thanks. I was delighted to hear Dawkins say
he was an agnostic, not an atheist, to the laughter of many. Whatever he is,
he has been thinking it all through seriously. Williams was definitive but
open. The moderator, a philosopher, was less open.

I watched and listened as I watched my Braves beat the Rays. That too was
delicious as our first closer came in in the 8th inning, Braves ahead 2-0,
with two Rays outs, then proceeded to hit the next two batters, loading the
bases, followed by the next batter hitting a blistering grounder that hit a
Rays runners and ended the 8th inning--and of course our closer finished off
the 9th inning as always, remarkably, leaving the Braves in first place.

Do inform us again, Paul, when they next debate, when they hopefully get to
the heart of the matter of the evolution of the Earth community to deal with
its future, and not just depend on Darwinian evolution and Godly
intervention.

John

-----Original Message-----
From: dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net
[mailto:dialogue-bounces@lists.wedgeblade.net] On Behalf Of
PSchrijnen@aol.com
Sent: Sunday, May 20, 2012 2:41 PM
To: dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net
Subject: Re: [Dialogue] The Grand Design

I enjoyed the debate between Richard Dawkins and Rowan Williams on some of
these questions:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfQk4NfW7g0

Maybe it adds another dimension...?

Paul




In a message dated 20/05/2012 19:18:12 GMT Daylight Time, LAURELCG@aol.com
writes:

   
    Jack,
     
    The Ground of Being that WAS before the big bang, and the
Evolutionary Impulse (Becoming) that started the big bang, is what we've
called God. (This I've gleaned from Andrew Cohen.) I agree it is all
intelligent, but our tiny brains cannot begin to understand it. IT is the
All, in the phrases, "All that is, is good." and "I am One with All That
Is." Science is about grappling to understand it. Good scientists are
usually in awe of what they're discovering. What else would keep someone
looking in a microscope all day every day for years, or whatever laborious
process is required in their discipline? Scientists like Bryan Swimme and
men of faith like Thomas Berry sometimes collaborate to come up with
inspired works, like The Universe Story. This is all just my humble opinion,
as is the belief that the church, the cutting edge today, is the
evolutionary spirituality movement. Jean Houston is a recognized leader of
it and almost invariably ends her internet sessions with "These are the
times, we are the people."
     
    From the great central valley of California, the center of the
Universe,
    Jann 
     
    In a message dated 5/20/2012 10:57:34 A.M. Pacific Daylight Time,
icabombay@igc.org writes:

        As to the "Grand Design", it is the contention of some that
the creative process, that which underlies all, is inherently intelligent
and that intelligence can be understood.



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