Hey there! I’m Ali.
I work at a public university in Colorado, which feeds the part of me that’s passionate about science, innovation, and the stories behind it. I also just completed a Master’s degree in Literature, with a focus on spirituality in late 19th and early 20th century fiction, particularly in terms of its evolving relationship with science and ethics. But if I’m being honest, I’m interested in everything, which would be why my “to-read” shelf on Goodreads currently contains 800+ books. (Yes, I’ll die before I read them all. In fact, if I’m blessed with a long life, I expect that number to be twice as high when I finally bite the dust.)
Story is how I process life. I think narrative is something we can’t help doing as human beings on planet Earth—it’s an inherent feature of life in time, and consciousness within a unified field—which is precisely why I choose to pay such close attention to it. I’m fascinated by the ways in which storytelling itself has evolved over the centuries: what’s changed, what remains the same. Which mirrors have gotten clearer, which darker? What kinds of metaphors do we need now that we weren’t ready for before?
What gets me out of bed every morning is the knowledge that there is always more to learn, which keeps life unpredictable, the world mysterious, and me humble.
You’ll find me talking a lot about faith here, too—practices, theologies, frustrations, epiphanies. I consider myself a Christian universalist with a deep well of hope for people + creation, trust in the cruciform pattern of reality, and respect for the mystic strains of all religious traditions. I think God isn’t picky about how God speaks. The question is—who’s listening?
A gravitational lens is a mass of matter that’s capable of bending light as it travels toward the observer.
It strikes me that this isn’t terribly different from what happens to metaphorical illumination—truth, wisdom, understanding—when human beings reach for it. Our nature prevents us from perceiving reality perfectly. It bends through us. The observer effect is writ large in me, as in you. Because of this, if I ever mistake what my eyes see for the exact form of the Real, I’m in trouble.
At the same time, that is bona fide light coming at me. Sure, it gets filtered through all my weaknesses and biases and limitations before I manage to form a single thought about it, but there’s beauty even in the incomplete picture it paints through my eyes.
In fact, that picture occasionally takes my breath away.
Ultimately, that’s all I’m trying to share here.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
—1 Corinthians 13:12, ESV