Ground To A Halt, But Less Concerned
There is much of me that feels as though it has ground to a halt. Outwardly, this is much less dramatic than it sounds, and inwardly, its existence isn’t completely apparent. Its taken time, reflection, movements of emotion and exhaustions, both physically and spiritually in order to shape something beyond the brain impulses that would otherwise solely define its realness. Its also been aided by the words of others and the sharing of similar experiences or moments in the soul’s variation.
I’ve thought so much and read so many books over the last few months but have felt unable to say a word. I don’t have a lot of free time, but I do have some. I’ve posted little more than a handful of blog posts here over the past few months, and those have mostly been photographical posts. Its not that I’ve lacked time or truth to attempt to share, its that something has changed. I’ve written post after post these last few weeks only to leave them unpublished in dissatisfaction, either with the content altogether or the arrangement of the words themselves.
A friend of mine recently was a part of a gathering of folks involved with Emergent Village, and afterward, the thoughts he translated into words to graciously share with his readers were ones that somehow helped me explain my own feelings even to myself. Its not that parallels need be precise, but that words chosen trigger just the right thoughts and that peace you get when you find yourself defined. Such definition carries not the forcefulness that one’s true identity given by God would bring, but it is similar, and, albeit fractional. It brings an exhale of understanding and peace, but not necessarily the complacency or the fabled “joy of the Lord”.
At this gathering of Emergent folk, Brittian describes himself as arriving at a state of agenda-less-ness. I may read more into his reactions or even adopt some and then tell him “I’ll take it from here,” but as is obvious, we can often trigger feelings and revelations within each other with words that were meant for other purposes. By the end of his time there he had dumped his regular response to the question “What do you do?” and replaced it with, in so many words, “nothing.”
You see I’ve let go of many pursuits in my life, and even in the last few years. Pursuits that would seem to define the very nature of such narratives as “Christian”, “American”, “lover”, “fighter”, and “artist”. I can’t help but leave it that vague because even to me, looking back at my life as though I could read the pages, I couldn’t paint the picture even if only I were viewing it. Perhaps its the complexity that so burdons my soul while my mind enjoys the exercise. Perhaps its the demands of reasonability that so burdons my mind while my soul finds it to be a shade from the sun on the warmest of summer days.
I’ve long now thought myself as meddling in the affairs of the gods, or at least the affairs of men who actually give a damn, and believe in that damnation for better or worse. Kahlil Gibran, with every word, applies color and comfort to the absurdities that would otherwise plague me. Just today, I pulled from his short collection of writings, Between Night and Morn, a line from a story that for a moment, I could swear was about me.
“His soul abandoned the rapid parade of time rushing toward nothingness.”
And so I’ll raise my glass, not to passivity nor the narrowness of hedonism, but to the agenda-less importance of first, be-ing. The be-ing that frees one to rise through clouds to find clear skies above them and yet, still devoted to truth, remaining within them. The same being that disregards any notion of a halting or of progress, and leaves us with contentment in saying, simply, “I dream…I dream”.
(Please do visit Brittian’s blog and his particular post in which he concludes with “I dream…I dream”, and thank you, Brittian, for sharing.)