“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.
-William A. Ward
Life will always find a tailwind when creating something out of thin air. In the mere reflection of life we require a creative and graceful wind—a special sort of fidelity with our inner nature that moves us in the direction of God. Life requires stability too. It demands a maturity of the creative gusto of our soul, which is not easily met in the constant adjustments of direction about the long and perilous journey through the sea of life. This life seems to result from the very least—in the experience of the artistic experiments that our creative soul has been quietly dreaming up to live amongst Him in the Kingdom of better days.
To reflect upon life with transparency, we must look towards God. We must keep the mind quiet. All the while allowing calmness and purity to at once become the well-kept condition of our being and the consequence of His vision for us as individuals. It is up to us to adjust the sails, and to allow His wind to carry us wherever He intends. This to me is the truth of life—the everlasting hope that breathes with each gust of life’s wind. It is the reason why I believe He created us; to create Him in our own creative way.
All a man should seek, other than God and his true self, is an opportunity to work his heart out through heightened work—to express the sensibility of his soul and to declare the lovely feelings of his time. He should seek to discover deeper purpose in his own creative meaning, as well as, the truths of the nature that both surround and entangle him.
He must use with confidence all of the delightful opportunities with his time on this earth—that God has so graciously given to him. It is most important to reflect upon ourselves in the creative sense, and to listen with the wind for the clandestine sounds of love and truth that He created deep within us all, long ago.
This writing began, in all reality as just a covert operation on my lifelong doubt in God and myself—the longing, the swelling heart, the raging eagerness of feeling deserted, and the painful keenness of an infinite and unidentified need for some purpose higher than this fallen world can offer.
Before I started to write again, I felt my imagination was headed for the shallow waters of mediocrity. And I wasn’t happy with my creativity drowning in the stagnant puddles of life. Why did my imagination have to give up its full and free connection to the universe, is it not a living garment of God?
I guess at the midway point of my life it comes to this. That as a creative individual I have often sought ways to prove what’s in my heart—the love, the poetic hunger for purpose, the swelling excitement over her unparalleled beauty—for which there are no acceptable terms of knowledge, just wisdom. Is it not the creative mind that is better off with hints, as opposed to extensive knowledge? But in the end we need not apply for the right to love in this world, we just do it because it is what God has intended for us all along.
When one writes his way through a spiritual awakening, it is bound to get a little too deep in spiritual schisms. The enigmatic engine will burn a little hot and sporadic from time to time. As one exorcises both the evil and the good from within him he will find numerous darkened paths up the mountain of his mind, and it is often as one approaches the off-beaten paths of his thoughts he will find himself betwixt and between, the sanctuary of beauty and the asylum of madness.
But just before he chooses between the paths, by God, the wind He blows it something fierce, and his ship gets turned around, away from the storms of himself. A smooth seam of glasslike water shows itself upon this sea of life, and he must adjust the sails for what he hopes is the sanctuary of His will. So as we sail towards the shore of big news, please allow me a moment to reflect on this creative written venture.
Let us not forget, that I had been a complete idiot until I started this blog and a partial idiot after that. So that being said, I will always be something of an idiot. I have overthought and rambled my way through my mind at my own pace and in all kinds of directions in search of something. It does happen to turn out that something was God. That’s where this path always led if you all haven’t yet noticed? It has become more than obvious that this sharing of my thoughts was just an extended errand for the sake of my soul.
It is true when I said that I believe this blog has been my own way of working myself through an existential crisis. My peculiar tendencies to get to the bottom of my purpose in life and to myself are of mine and God’s genuine demeanor, and I think these words alone can verify that. If they can actually guarantee a damn thing, I suppose is up to me.
My thoughts even now, they sit here simmering. Still, at some point they must come to a full boil. As my very fingers rehearse these written words, how would my mind work the notes of my imagination’s trumpet, when it was ready to blow alas? Would the peals of written brass be heard beyond this earth? Would Christ, the faculty savior of my imagination’s truth be roused, and may we together look with awakened eyes upon the true beauty of Heaven on earth?
I have always thought of thoughts as real constituents of being. So now with all of my being I must drop anchor upon the shores of home. As I look back at this sea of words, this venture of my bared soul that has shown the chaos, the beauty and all else in between the storms of my mind—I regret none of it. But comes a time for a man to walk in the direction towards his known purpose for a quick minute.
Recognize what is in your sight, and that which is hidden from you will become plain to you, for there is nothing hidden which will not become manifest.
Living The Dream
Last week I was offered and have accepted what I have long considered a dream job. And until I find my full stride along the new path in my career, my time is going to be precious. I am going to play Executive Chef for this quaint but busy little bistro-style bar and grill along the shores of the closest place I know to be bliss, that being Lake Tahoe. I have longed to get back to “painting” plates and creating dishes that grow from the garden of my soul. It’s going to be more than hectic enough all summer to occupy most of my mind. Which let us all be honest here, it is what this mind of mine needs.
The outdoor barbecues, the granules of sand tormenting sunburnt children with bliss, the beach with its perfect seventy five degree sunny days, the drive and motivation to be proud of collective success, is all that I need at this point in my life. The sunsets and sunrises, my buddy picking me up from work on the boat, it’s all quite the blessing. The Man Upstairs has a beautiful plan and I’ll even be able to afford Him the favor back by frequenting an early service of Church on Sunday mornings.
This summer will be beautifully orchestrated chaos, but I am better at harnessing the chaos of a kitchen, and all its moving parts, than I am at constructing the chaos of my own mind. Plus, the creativity and responsibility that comes with this job, gives me a sense of purpose I haven’t felt since my son was born. Whom by the way turns five today. Happy birthday big rig. For Heaven’s sake they grow up so fast. Here’s to your day filled with creativity and cupcakes. He is a Pisces kid through and through.
The dream hasn’t changed, but He has changed the course of the wind, and I must adjust the sails towards the direction of a different dream. I feel that there is still a purpose to my writing, there always will be when speaking of Him and His love.
In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.
But it is but for a bit, that this all has to be put on the back-burner of reality. It seems to be His will for now, and I am no longer one to fight against that. We need not forget though, that where there are multiple outlets of creativity, the mind’s ability to create becomes lest congested. So in order to right this ship long lost in a sea of words, I must set the sails in the direction of the good fight, for myself and of course, love and His will.
In order to build a recipe out of words it is imperative to string incongruities and absurdities together in a wandering and sometimes purposeless way, and seem innocently unaware that they are absurd. This has become the basis of American art. And if my position is correct, another feature is the slurring and stumbling of the point. A third feature is the placement of a well-traveled remark with the transparency of not knowing it, as if one were thinking out loud. The fourth and final is indeed the pause…
That way you give the audience the time to divine that a surprise is intended;)
The wicked flee though no one pursues (Prov. 28:1). That being said, I’ll be back sooner than I am able.