Thursday, March 20, 2008

As the birds sing

I've been staring at this blog template for more than 10 minutes, trying to think of something to write. Birds, meanwhile, are singing their morning praises or friendship calls or arguments, or whatever the heck it is they are saying. Perhaps they think our language is just as mysterious or at times nonsensical.

Writing that is not assignment-related or slated for immediate publication is a tenacious sport. Kind of like meditation, it's a hidden activity that sometimes has an external impact. No one else really cares that it's going on until they experience its fruits--like actually reading the blog entry or book, or feeling the good nature and thoughtfulness from the centered person. It cannot be immediately measured nor justified economically, and therefore writing for the soul--like meditation--has little value in the midst of capitalism and therefore can appears to be a lesser priority for the writer himself/herself.

And so even as I sit here typing away I am flooded with thoughts of what else I could be doing. Stretching so my hamstrings stay loose. Putting on running clothes. Eating. Showering. Reading a book that already has been written rather than writing about writing. Sleeping; too late for that!

I plan to have my first all-new writing time this Sunday morning at 5:30 at Starbucks. Easter Sunday. Years ago I used to preach a sunrise Easter service for a United Methodist Church. I spoke of new life. This Sunday I hope to be reflecting on that eternity that thrives within each of us, as I start the day writing and then move into worshipping with my family and others.

The resurrection of Christ, like the resurrection stories found in the mythologies of many other cultures, also does not have much capitalistic merit. And yet, so much of what can be found in driven, high-stressed cultures is crying out for new life. It is funny how we collectively dismiss the key elements of authentic living while simultaneously longing for them. We worry so much about things, and all the while the birds sing and chirp.


At 11:09 AM , Blogger Rebecca said...

I am very jealous that you have a Starbucks that opens at 5:30am...on a Sunday, no less. I also do my best work in the mornings, and I tend to do it even better with a cup of coffee and people around with whom I don't have to talk. :-)

Glad you found/like my reading blog.

Happy Vernal Equinox (weird juxtaposition with Maundy/Holy Thursday).

At 5:32 PM , Anonymous elaine said...

What has ever become of you and your family? I thought you all were in Florida. Tell Jenna I would love an update as time allows.

peace~elaine olsen

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