This is a spiritual journal. More than a collection of thoughts about the weather and seasons, birds or occurences, this is a record of my soul, finding the state of my inner being through the telling.
It is to be noted, then, when I don’t write. Sometimes I have reasons, sometimes it is like my soul is shunted.
The great difficulty is that unlike hunger, when the stomach is ignored, it becomes increasingly easier to wander away from the most vital pursuits.
Not that I didn’t get things done. Indeed, one could say that I ventured into more practical realms this weekend than I have for a long time.
But I cannot sustain that distracted focus. I have lost the rhythm of the spiritual life, and only disciplined reaction will restore the liveliness. That is the place for regimen, for rule, for order and schedule. Over managed one can lose the fluidity, but in times of gadding these take on an unrivalled importance. I lose the habit, but know the positive results.
So, tomorrow is a new day, a new week really. I’ll likely keep at similar tasks, but instead of letting them consume my time and being, I’ll reassert those deeper parts.
I am of no worth to anyone if I let myself drift away. God calls, and though the rhythm of the present may not require intense focus, there is still a need for balance.
And less sugar. Doughnuts are my joy and bane all in one.