“I look at the world and I see beauty. I see love and loss, birth and death, joy and sorrow. I see a world where color exists and in enormous generosity we were given eyes to see it. This is a world where bread makes a smell as it’s baked, and we just happen to have noses to smell it. Color, smell, sound, taste -these are things that could have gone unnoticed; we could have been senseless in this reality, careening around like so many spattering particles. Were our noses invented first, or the smells? Our eyes, or the sights? Breasts, or desire?
We have been created as recipients. I look at the stars, at the grass, at my fat-faced children, at my fingernails, and I am oppressed by gratitude.
I have been given a belly so that I might hunger. I have been given hunger so that I might be fed.”
N. D. Wilson, Notes from the Tilt-A-Whirl (p.75)
Bread Makes a Smell -And I am Oppressed by Gratitude-