Learning to Dance

Explorations in the Spiritual Life

Date: March 13, 2004

evening

I spent the day cleaning, among other tasks. Unfortunately, my zeal overcame my attention. Some water spilled, dousing my cordless phone and my keyboard. My phone survived, my keyboard… well, everything but the space bar, the ‘n’, and the ‘b’ works. A person needs those keys. So I write, using pen and paper, considering how better this is in general, for posterity’s sake or something, knowing I will return to typing as soon as I can. Such is my generation.

Again it is still tonight. Weekend visitors flocked to their cabins, making much noise throughout the day. But now all is quiet , no motion at all, by flora or fauna.

I end the day as I began. Vaguely something. Either not introspective or else not caring. I did my tasks, spent a long time cleaning and organizing. There was no thrill, jut rote activity – though positive. I do weary of waiting, expecting long prayed prayers to resolve – only I cannot force God.

Maybe that is my frustration, the common American expectation of assertion has no effect on God, so people dodge or leave him. We do not suffer well the vagaries of others, even the Divine.

Maybe, though, this tendency is why God tells of himself through his actions. He is the God who brought his people out of Egypt. That is the main way he defined himself. This tells us he acts, and it tells us he acts in his own timing. They could not force themselves out until God acted, and he waited. Why? That is something only he knows. The reality is he did act. That’s the hope and promise. And my prayer.

morning

A sunny almost Spring day. The jays are bouncing about. I’ve hung a shamrock windsock outside, giving a new rustle sound in the breeze, reflecting sunlight off its white strands. About seven different kinds of birds are giving calls of some sort, enjoying the day, readying themselves for spring. A chickadee is the most delightful, singing his little tune as he scoots across tree trunks, flying even to my balcony near my feet. So small and so bold.

There are days in which I am intensely introspective. This is not one of them. I feel decidedly… shallow. Self motivation for spiritual tasks retreats, spurring the gears of discipline into action, doing because it is right not because it comes naturally. I read and pray, write this, and consider depths, more out of desire to keep up than anything else. I miss a muse today, a spark from outside which could reignite. This is why community is so vital, and an aspect I miss right now.

So, I shall do my part, find productive responses, though rote they may be. Who knows, maybe a surprise will come, the Spirit will engage, my soul will expand. It is far too easy to be numb, though, which is why I must continue to act like it comes from the heart. I feel my lack, my need for growth, those aspects which seek to degrade even when I am at my heights. Looking forward, even when the view isn’t that interesting. That’s my task.

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