Distance equals space. As God requires space, God creates it. As children of God, we do the same, creating our space or our distance as required, either tangibly, in terms of feet or miles, or intangibly, in terms of aloofness and silence. This is our connection to the heavens, not a book, not words, not stained glass and gold leaf. Our abilities, to create life, to create death, to make light, to create space where there is none; these are our imitations of the divine.So the space increases. Distance to protect us. Emptiness dividing our individual fullness. Born of us.
I think I am going to write a post every day from class (when I go, shhhh, don’t tell my professors, por favore) just to maintain the legal aspect of this lil’ journal o’ mine. So, in honor of this idea, let’s talk about criminal law. I am a second year law student, let’s begin with that. It is usually not the case that a second year student is in criminal law, as that is a first year course, but due to the unique circumstances surrounding both my first year and my particular law school, I was required to take criminal law not in my first year but in my second. As a second year student, I am blessed with what I consider to be a singular opportunity to peer through a window of sorts onto the in-class minds and experiences of the first year students. And frankly, I feel for them. This professor, while she seems both an intelligent and engaging sort, clearly has no feel for the pacing and method required to teach the course. We are never where we are supposed to be in the course, and additionally, we very rarely are given a clear understanding for the core ideas at the root of criminal law. I am not aware if she has ever taught before, I will be sure to do some research to find out, but if I were to guess, I would suppose the negative.
Ok, you know what? Maybe I won’t write a post every day from class. The whole idea sounds boring. And I don’t think I would write anything particular interesting, unless I get especially catty and start making snide personal comments about the people and characters in my classes. And I don’t think that is particularly wise, for a variety of reasons. So Imma chill, m’kay?
Except for the taxi driver guy in our class. That never gets old.
Like sunlight sitting next to me
Her attention fixed on the front
Glowing with her growing understanding
White shirt, violet scarf, blue jeans
Dark hair, brown eyes, black boots
These fail to capture the wonder of the sun
Rays, yellow, and round aren’t words enough
To circumscribe its awesome glory