STOIC POETRY | To walk alone among ghosts
I was never very afraid of the dark, or the things which come out after the sun goes down, to wander, and slither, and creep, and fly...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 25, 20203 min read
STOIC POETRY | Sailing the inner sea
There is a sea within us upon which circumstance presses restless winds night and day; forming crests and troughs, moving over the face...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 24, 20201 min read
STOIC POETRY | Infrastructure
There is an inward architecture which we create through the fact and consequence of our decisions and actions, which become the...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 22, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | Reading good books
I once rose late each day to meander life in search of tidbits to consume: news, gossip, politics, and the shared things of the appetites...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 21, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The life of faith—
What effort is involved in holding a position of faith? The work is in the restraint needed to protect our belief from doubt. We strive...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 20, 20201 min read
STOIC POETRY | The news which is never old
I awoke today to headlines of war, and gossip, and scandal, and the rise of stocks and advertisements for soap, and a 30% chance of rain...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 18, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | Seeing between the Distraction
Just every once in a while...every so often...I'll spot the Indifference between the moments of my daily life. For, while the Nothing...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 17, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | What there isn't beyond the sea
Life is a little like coming awake on an island beach, naked and screaming and vulnerable and weak. The natives here do care for us, and...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 15, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The upward ground
"...and the very slope of the hill on which my house is placed, seemed to say, Forward!" -Henry David Thoreau I accept life as hard. I...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 14, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The bullseye aim
Whenever I strive, I always fall short. For the fact of striving makes me miss the mark. It would be better to become educated, without...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 13, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The season of philosophy
As a young man, my ideas resembled the ideas of others, and my writing was an imperfect transcription of what I'd learned. My time then...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 12, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The fact that we went—alone
I began my life as a young adult finding things along the way. I went out from the circumstance I knew into life which was not yet mine,...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 11, 20203 min read
STOIC POETRY | When our finding days are done
Before I was alive I'm pretty sure I simply did not exist. Oh sure, the stuff of which I am made was around, and the energy which courses...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 7, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The hole along the way
I've always been one to notice the hole in the fabric of humanity, where one may press through a finger to the place outside. You can...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 6, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The best seat in the house
I have long dreamed of a nice, personal room where I can work. A little office at home where I can set up a desk and chair and my stuff,...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 5, 20203 min read
STOIC POETRY | A brief time to truly live
The Great Indifference exists wherever we are not distracted by ourselves. It is the substance of the universe that isn't—not empty...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 4, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | More to life than living
There is so much to occupy the time of life. So much to do. So many people to know, and love, and pass the time together with. One thing...
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Kurt Bell
Aug 3, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | The virtue of temperance
For what reason is temperance a virtue? Why do the sages live in austerity, and the desert fathers forsake the world, and the poet love...
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Kurt Bell
Jul 31, 20202 min read
STOIC POETRY | Words like flowers upon a table
Words are like clay in the hands of a potter, who might pound together a rough cup and offer it "here!" as an implement of utility. And...
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Kurt Bell
Jul 30, 20203 min read
STOIC POETRY | Adrift across a desert night
In his book Walden, specifically in the chapter titled "The Ponds", Henry David Thoreau describes the seasons and moods of Walden Pond as...
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