All is well.
I know that post below was a guaranteed downer. I got a call from my brother and from Alison, just making sure I was OK. For which I'm very grateful.
I think blogging for me is at times a snapshot of a moment. Blogging isn't really a journal, since you know that others will be reading it, but then there are moments like today when my blogging blurs the line somewhat and becomes closer to what I might put into a journal and not share with the rest of the world. But at the same time, I've found solace in being able to come here to put down in words what I'm experiencing and going through, and it allows people who care about me to know what's going on with me. Somehow it's easier to communicate this way I think, though God forbid if blogging were to turn into a morbid and introspective exercise at navel gazing.
I'm going to leave that post up--it's a true assessment of how I felt this morning, and a true assessment of the internal battles and struggles that I've dealt with for years. Sometimes it's poignantly felt, as it was this morning, but usually it's not so keenly experienced.
I know this: God desires to heal us all, including the wounds that are still not healed in me. And I also believe that the pain I find myself in sometimes is pain that can allow me to identify with the pains of Christ, and hopefully, with God's grace, I can see that clearly. It seems that with mornings like this, all that I believe about suffering becomes more than theoretical.
All that to say that things are not so dire or grim in reality as they seemed to me this morning. In fact, my recital this afternoon is the best I've ever performed a solo in my life--hand's down. That's a good feeling and one of my trumpet colleagues was quite effusive in his praise, particularly as to how well in tune apparently I can play. It feels good to have the respect of your colleagues, and to hit one out of the park as I felt I did today.
And let's be honest: a lot of the shit I was feeling this morning has to do with the weather in February in Michigan.
I think Puerto Rico is just what the doctor ordered.
Thanks for the prayers. It is a bit of a valley right now.
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2 comments:
Dan, I've been thinking of your trip to Puerto Rico - mostly because I'm insane with jealousy - and as I was reading an essay by Wendell Berry (An Entrance to the Woods) I thought of you.
I couldn't find a link to the essay online - I own a collection with the essay in it. So if you can get your hands on it easily, read it.
Berry talks about "place" and about getting to places and how it takes a while for our minds, our souls, to catch up with our bodies - we were made to travel by foot, to experience each place fully rather than to experience only the freeway or the airway. He talks about how once in the woods it would normally take him a day or two to be there fully - to not be in a state of transition, for his mind not to be still working within the confines of what was normality for him.
Anyway. I found it an interesting observation from a fascinating champion of "place."
Have a great time.
Thanks for the recommendation. What I've read of Wendell Berry I've enjoyed. I'll be scrambling to just get out of here with everything I need--I'll have to look for it when I return. I'm hoping this trip can be a reflective one for me and I suspect this essay will be just as meaningful for me afterwards.
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