I walk through life
No, I run, I hop, I skip
However, I travel
I am no longer where I was
But sometimes I sit
And time just passes by
In my mind
Or in my heart
I can return and see
Recall where once I’ve been
What called me on?
What brought me where I am?
The voice that bids me
Time to go
Is that the voice of my creator
Still making me who
I am to be?
Walking along, thinking of someone I know
Wondering, what would they say
Was the most important thing about them?
If they had to decide what one fact defined them
What would it be?
One thing, they talk about
Over and over
Would that be it?
Imagine a grand encyclopaedia
Of everyone on earth
One brief fact beside each name
What would yours be?
W is for What if?
What if the Emperor’s new clothes were real
But invisible to those who didn’t believe?
What if the ‘enlightening’ words were not truth
What if we all ran after the ‘new wisdom’
But lost sight of sacred reality?
What if we all have the eye of faith
But cover it with a blindfold?
What if we dare to peek from behind it?
Lucy’s P is persist. I quote:
I can’t let go.
I must persist with this.
Some small part of me believes that in some small way it might be what I’m made for.
I never so much persisted with writing as it persisted with me. Every few years it would return and claim my attention, my time. For writing is s a very time consuming activity. It started when I was eight and I won’t bore you with attempts to identify how often it has returned in various guises over the years.
One summer I did persist for some months and finish the book I’d been playing at writing for several years. And I still write a monthly piece for our parish magazine. But, somehow that doesn’t feel like persistence so much as something which just happens.
Which brings me to my second P, providence; a word with a whole spectrum of meaning. Akin to fate, something that just happens to be, the way things are. Or people might give it a capital P, Providence, a personification of some sort of guiding power working for our good. A kind of guardian angel, perhaps?
I ponder how Lucy’s phrase, ‘it might be what I’m made for’ fits into this perspective of thinking. Of course, her phrase could be understood more literally taking us into the sphere of Divine purpose or even God’s will.
My preference is to think in terms of God’s providence which to me is more specific and less wishy washy or evasive than Divine purpose without being as arrogantly dogmatic God’s will. But I quite accept that any of these terms will speak differently to different people depending on the contexts in which they have previously been encountered.
When you mix ideas of persisting, of working to make our plan come about with ideas of providence, of understanding that we are part of some bigger plan, then you come to a point of negotiation; the point of prayer.
So forget, for a minute, the idea of prayer being something stuffy and boring that religious people do; forget it being a shopping list that you email to heaven rather than the supermarket and think instead along the lines of the currently popular concept of mindfulness.
Think of sitting in the crossroads of persistence and providence; how does my plan for a piece of writing, my plot for a story fit with God’s plan for the history of humankind, the plot for the story of life? Is it a vital clue subtly woven into the fabric of life, a red herring, a delightful bit of background, an ill-placed word that upsets the flow of the narrative?
There’s no doubt that to make a career of writing takes persistence but to persist with our own plans in the face of providence is not constructive. Better to stop for a while, bask in the face of providence and see where we are led.
Inspiration and perspective
Start at A and Z is too far off
But I didn’t start at A
I came in at L…
Can you hear the penny drop?
Creaky cogs start to turn?
No need to progress
In a pre-ordered fashion…
Zymotic – lets rescue the term from Victorian pathology and apply the Greek idea of fermentation to the fermenting of ideas
Yearning – has definitely been my inspiration for writing in the past. When life has peace, joy and contentment there is far less motivation to write. Yet… there is still that indescribable something.
(e)Xistential – blatant cheating now – or perhaps we call it a creative perspective on life?
A is for alphabet, also and anything
B is for books but beginning with blogging
C is for copying, courage and cutting
And Z is too far out of sight!