Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Soul Enema.

This is a weird semester for me, weird in that I've been awarded a copious amount of alone time. It's starting to get to me, Literally. I feel like I've caught some sort of alone time illness that makes me do strange alone-time things...

Such as:

Dip a banana nut muffin in my tomato soup. Eat it.
Paint a rock with nail polish and watch it dry.
Bleach a pair of Black socks to make them gray.
Go on a walk, pick up pretty leaves, put them in my pocket. (Crunch them up in my pocket later when a lady with big teeth makes me uncomfortable at work.)
Cut slits into my clothing. i.e. The sides of my pants and the collars of my shirts.
Get on Facebook and look at pictures of babies and cute animals.
Text ChaCha asking the names of Reese Witherspoon's children.
Reheat a third cup off coffee and take one sip.
Tune my guitar. Immediately put it back on its stand.
Lotion my elbows.
Cut all my gum in half so it will last longer.
Do arm lifts with a can of beans.

There, you see? Worthless things. Stupid-fill-the-time-up things. Honestly I feel guilty about all of it, as if they were guilty pleasures rather than moments of total boredom. I feel bad about it because I "SHOULD" be studying every chance I get. I should be rehearsing my notes and absorbing Othello and downright obsessed with algebraic expressions, but I just can't. I can't bring myself to take on that monotony any more than I have to.

The truth is I'm tired of living a life mapped out by midterms and semesters and deadlines. My heart is leaning towards a time I can't wait to know. A time that will resemble my childhood in that it is governed by seasons. By birthdays. By dinner dates. I want to LIVE. School has this downright nasty draining affect that leaves my soul ashy. Then again, I've been at it for about twenty years. Not that I'm putting all my hope in "after school." I know it'll be pockmarked with downfalls and loneliness, and probably a little bit of money issues. But I'm excited. I want to get my eyes back, my seeing eyes. In a world ruled by details, I never notice the way the sun plays on the leaves, or the way shadows fall fast in late afternoon. I need these things the way some people need Ritalin and Paxil. I downright need the ocean. I need both hands to be emerged in the rapids of temperance river in Northern Minnesota. I need to be counseled by the sound of trees blowing before a storm. Basically, I need God. And He speaks to us in the ways He knows that we will listen. Yet for some reason, I get lost in duties and then programmed to be bored when I'm alone. I start ChaCha-ing the names of celebrity children (which are Ava and Deacon by the way) and lotioning body parts that frankly don't need lotion this time of year.

I read about a man named Christian in The Pilgrim's Progress. He was about to cross a river that was tossing all violent and war-like. Scared, he called out for help from a guy named Hopeful. He said, "How deep is this river!? Am I going to make it!?!!!" Poor Christian was downright panicky. Hopeful stayed perfectly chill and said, "you shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place."


My eleven o'clock British-Lit-Bored-Bottom woke up when she heard that one.

When I start drawing different tree species all over my algebra notes I know it's time to find the Lord again. At this point, November 18, 2010, I feel as if I've just peed my pants. I look up at God (an absolute humiliated mess) and He's like. "Boo. Love. Why Didn't you just go to the bathroom?" It's true. When We have a need, why do we hold out and ignore it all the time. Why do I paint rocks with nail polish and cut sticks of gum in half to fill the time? Why does anyone feel uncomfortable about going for what they really need? Because.

Because we just do.

We like idleness. We like to keep busy, and fill our heads with rap, video games, stale conversation, shopping trips, talk shows, workouts and movies so that we don't have to live. Living's a lot of work.

Nathan tells me every day that Life's a battle to hear the truth and get it inside of you. I'm the warrior. You're the warrior.

The truth is, I want to spread my arms as wide as I can and fall off a cliff into the vastness of the ocean so that God can close his presence over my head and make me laugh for joy of the outright silliness of fill-the-time-up-things. Then He can send that salt water all through me to clean me out like a soul enema thankyouverymuch.