Saturday, February 02, 2013


"Math Exam", acrylic on canvas, by
Trine Meyer Vogsland

It’s interesting to me that 2+2=4 is true no matter where I am or what is happening. In a hailstorm or in the halls at school, it’s as true as it was when dinosaurs were around. When the world seems to be breaking apart because of storms or wars, 2+2 is still 4. When sorrow seems to be crushing happiness, 2+2 is still quietly and completely 4. In sickness or health or gladness or disaster, the formula is still unswerving and steadfast. It’s a principle that has more power, in a sense, than hurricanes, more dependability than our dearest friends. When I find my life full of confusion, I can at least say, with assurance, that 2+2 is still 4.
What’s surprisingly heartening about this is that it reminds me of another dependable principle – that love can never be beaten. No matter how many misfortunes try to tear down love, it still stands solid and trustworthy, still as endless as ever. True, one person’s personal, physical love for another may lose its energy, but the ability of that person to love without limits is still there, still thriving. Try tearing real love apart with the powers of hate and you’ll see the love looking bigger and braver than ever. Try taking love’s life out of it, and the love will loom larger and more powerful than before.
It’s a principle as supreme as 2+2=4. If the world collapses in chaos, math and love will just seem sturdier than ever.

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