Learning to Dance

Explorations in the Spiritual Life

Date: June 1, 2004


Still hasn’t been made. Instead I pursued the path of not doing either really well. Ah well, it seems though, there is still that meditative call within, driving me towards texts, away from the computer.

I thought it would be good to sit outside and stare at the rising moon, a moon nearing fullness. Only some distant house had music playing, music not particularly suited for contemplation.

Again I realize while I am away from the city, I am not far enough away to really delve into the contemplative life. Which makes me wonder if I should be doing so.

Another part of me wishes to have a band, or play for a church again. I feel that inner musical drive eating at me, eating at me in a way which even playing in the light of the rising moon cannot assuage. There is something wonderful about uniting with other musicians, getting into a groove. I miss it.

I miss showing up at someone’s house and talking about deep things, praying together with a group of people.

I press on, feeling the disturbances of life creeping up and within, feeling myself unfocused, mainly because I’m not sure what to focus on. I am called to pursue a path, we all are. Only when a person has gone too long without validation, without justification, it gets tiresome. I feel that, though focused as a lack of focus. What is worth doing, I wonder. I have energy, and just don’t know what the next step to pursue might be.

As a response I might go to bed earlier tonight and try to wake up tomorrow with a little more sense to my mind.

If, however, there is anyone out there looking for a reasonably decent saxophone player, give me a ring. I also play the irish whistle.. if you ask nicely.


I met a bug this morning. It looked like a ladybug, only it was pale orange, and had long feelers on its head. I named it Phil. I’m not sure why. Phil landed on my shoulder while I was kayaking. He seemed content to sit there. Unfortunately he tickled a bit, and that’s one thing a person doesn’t like when kayaking. So, I encouraged him to climb on my finger, and I lifted him down to the rail of the cockpit. He stood there as I continued, milling about a little, but mostly staring into the wind, his feelers curling back in the slight breeze of our progress.

Phil liked to tell puns, only he wasn’t very good at them. And puns, even when good, aren’t really that funny.

I do suspect he was using me. He wanted to get to the other side of the lake, and those little beetle wings of his weren’t up to the effort. Maybe he had family, or there is a beetle monument to visit. He was a friendly cheery sort, so even if he did have ulterior motives, I appreciated his company. Two intrepid explorers staring into the wind, forcing our way through the waves.

Once to the other side he left his place by my side, and wandered up to the bow. I lost sight of him when he went over the side, near to the water rushing past. I slowed, for it isn’t polite to lose one’s passengers in the wake. Near shore he took to flight. I didn’t hear his goodbye, though I know it was offered.

I also met a jay this morning. I didn’t catch her name. Phil the bug might say her name was Jay, only I think that’s a boy’s name so he would be wrong. She was eager for food, and a little wary of me. A very little wary. Most birds watch from a distance. She flew by me, landing on the rail when I was out, hopping onto the roof over my head. I thought it would be nice to put out some more seed. She agreed. So I did, she watched. Once I finished she hopped to a nearby branch, looked right at me and said thank you. Well, not using those words, she chirped a quiet and polite couple of times. I caught her meaning.

For whatever reason I’m a wee bit restless this morning. Not the depressed, listless kind of restless, the meditative, wandering kind of restless, the kind of restless where a branch can catch my eye and I’ll notice fifteen minutes later I’ve been staring at it, without realizing time has past.

I feel like wandering, like being outside (hence my morning kayak… not my usual timing). I’ll consider what this means, and consider how best to use this mood, whether to take advantage of some subtle call I am hearing, or whether to buckle down and assert discipline.

The decision on which direction to pursue has not yet been made.

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