Author: Peter Catizone
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Truth
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Truth is the handmaiden to lies. Truth without love can be persecution. St. Paul persecuted the Christians. Then he found God and became a disciple of truth out of fear, only to continue his persecution of the Christians. Because without love, truth can be a falsehood.
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The Grand Finale
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Life is truly a stage and we’re actor’s playing it, maybe even going backstage when we die to discuss our new roles in God’s next drama. I’m sure screenwriters are jockeying for the screen rights to the Biden / Trump Election. Maybe they’ll call it…“The Grand Finale” Starring…George Clooney as Biden. How better for George…
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Going to war with himself
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The warrior saint Arjuna chose Krishna’s wisdom rather than his armies, in turn winning the war against his blood brothers. I always tell Hindu scholars: Arjuna wasn’t going into war with his blood brothers, that’s just a metaphor for going into war with himself. Arjuna was upholding his Dharma. They would ask, where did you…
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Emotions and the Universe
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I’ve been totally immersed these past few days thinking about the occasional erratic behavior of the Universe and why. Yesterday at the beach, smoking a cigar, I had an epiphany: The Universe has emotions!!! and like us, it can change its behavior due to its emotional state and consciousness. Cosmologistsfail to understand because emotionsare not…
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Chapter 4
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The Trinity When you’re young, it feels like you have to pick a specific model if you want to fit into ‘the system’. It’s as if life gives you all these tailored suits to choose from, each one representing a person you can choose to be, and a path you can take, according to the…
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Chapter 2
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Running with the Wolf In a world where you start out with nothing and have nothing to aspire to, pragmatism trumps virtue ethics. Growing up in the Italian ghetto you learn to move in many different circles. That sequence in The Godfather sums it up: in one scene, Michael is in church, baptizing his nephew, in the…
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Chapter 1
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My Parents and Early Life Minute by minute, I watched the slow arc of the sun as the light inched its way across the room. For eight hours, I watched it. In that time, I saw no one, spoke to no one, ate nothing. I was just 7-years old, and I sat there – alone…