Not even a whisper this evening. No movement, not a breath of air. Light branches lay still. The great bear shines through the trees, Jupiter peaks out over the roof from the east, rising with Virgo. The little bear dodges the snake, circling about, while Cassiopeia slowly peaks out over the horizon. The lion dances with the bear, Jupiter like a bur in its leg. Orion, in the west, chases the bull to the earth, the twins in hot pursuit, Saturn pointing the way. Of these, only two can I clearly see… Jupiter and the great bear. All the others, hidden behind tree and artificial light are there, of that I am certain, only my eyes fail the hunt. There, but not seen, known because of lore and experience, charts and writings of many. All around, and much, much more, though my comfort afflicted being can see only little. The air is warm, the sounds only those of distant cars and my fingers typing. I hear the blood moving through my head. I take a deep breath, then another.

There are signs out there if we know how to read them. Some are complex and take a life time, some we learn when young, then forget, and must constantly learn again. Today I relearned what I already knew. On and off I wonder why I did not pursue a technology career, or even settle for less creative work of a paying sort. This day I spent wrestling with computer ills and gains, moving forward, certainly, overcoming obstacles, definitely, feeling empty, absolutely. A moment in a glade makes my heart rejoice, fills me with a heavenly delight which knows only the bounds of my own soul, and strains at it to broaden and deepen. Even briefly under the sun turns my being upward. Before a computer I deplete and descend, becoming headachey, becoming sallow in mind, losing that drive which points me upwards. I’ve always known this. I exult in being part of nature, of dancing with sun and rain. The activity of code and commands sap my essence, leaving me dry.

Today I wrestled with needed tasks, settling into this new web home, so that future thought may be concerned only with moving forward in creativity and content here. But still, I know that to live in such a world is to die for me. There must be balance. While this is an important, I don’t know why, task, one which I feel is right to do, I still feel it is not my heart, that is something else, something which breathes the breath of the Spirit within.

I finish feeling the same unfocus, though admitting my day was not wasted. I am reminded why many practical choices evaded my grasp. I do not want to be lost, and in these things I may exist but I no longer am. My lesson in all this, I don’t know. Only that I know that God gives passion and energy in directions we are meant to pursue, and allows our draining when we spend our energy in imperfect ways. To spend a day like today is fine, to lose sight of my call to write and focus on God’s creation is more than unfortunate, it is death. Slow though it may come, my soul even now feels less, and thirsty for pure water. All is well, if I return to the path, and walk as I am called. Everything else is in the shadows.