Sunday 2 December 2007

I've been feeling a bit more hope-less this week, after this cleanse and also The Artist's Way. Stirring up all that physical and spiritual/emotional/creative stuff can certainly discombobulate one if one is so inclined to let one's thoughts take one off down the royal road to quitting and lying on the couch and doing nothing (done that for so long when I was sick, doing it when I'm well feels sacreligious, and actually, my time waster of choice these days is sitting online, aimlessly clicking page after page, not really soaking in what I'm doing, bored out of my skull. Addictive tendencies? Yes 'm.

Speaking of. Could go a joint, bloggers. Has to be said, has to be admitted. It's been 3 1/2 weeks since my last couple of tokes, and I confess readily to missing the quick hit of inspiration the tuning in and the slowdown to beauty and meditation. It's a harder road to travel straight. But it's the road I wanna travel.

The aim is to take all that excess energy and put it into my writing. When I was writing my Morning Pages before (at 5pm), I was pondering my almost-subconscious propensity to limit myself, to think "this far and no further shall I go" in terms of creativity and writing. I need a bit more hope, a bit more of a long view than I have right now, today, this second. I'm sure it will come. All of these steps walking towards it tend to confirm its coming.

I think part of making your way from the dark forest path toward the sun involves a Rumsfeldian recognising what we're needing, what we're missing, even when we're not even sure what that is. The recognition of the lack aids in the materialisation, methinks (or at least, that seems to be how the universe operates, opening itself up to us when we open ourselves up to it - which, of course, is probably where the whole "God helps those who help themselves" mentality comes in, and the stripped down materialistic version, The Secret. All of that is quite far from the original thought, stripping away all the mystery and the reliance on God and the communication with God and the stress and the sweaty palms and turning it all efficient and slot-machine-ish, into yet another five-point plan for getting what we want out of God). Walking towards something that we're not even sure what it is - discombobulating if you need all your facts served straight up no ice, but delicious if you're beginning to look at your life as a narrative, as a story, as a small bit part of something much, much bigger and more beautiful than you could have dreamed.

I was reading Christine's 2006 part-1 post about lectio divina before; such a beautifully written description of something so mysterious and beautiful and Vermeerish (see Barbara, your post has stayed with me :) These words jumped out at me:

So I will allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart. From there I will give her the vineyards she had, and the valley of Achor as a door of hope. She shall respond there as in the days of her youth, when she came up from the land of Egypt. . . I will espouse you to me forever: I will espouse you in right and in justice, in love and in mercy; I will espouse you in fidelity, and you shall know the LORD.
Hosea 2:16-17, 21-22

Allure away, Papa. Draw us from where we stand in whatever deserts we find ourselves. Deserts of addictions, of bondage, of chains, of fear, of anxiety, of depression, of lack, of want, of need, of despair and desire. Lead us on, Papa. Lead us on.

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