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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