For some reason I like to be beneath the canopy of voices.
Chattering sounds come from another room--there seems to be a multitude--
but I choose the intimacy of fewer bodies.
The presence of company is a wonderful thing.
All around me it is warm. And I am warm.
I notice my heart beat. It is familiar. And content.
It reminisces a younger rhythm, and I take comfort in that.
All is warm.
I want to claim the tiles by the sink as my personal playground
and build my imaginary fort while the "grown-ups" talk.
There once was comfort to being small in a small place and being excused for it.
In that moment, it seemed that there was something I was trying to reclaim:
A memory from the past, or perhaps just a fragment of it, a scene or a sentiment
or recollection of a scripted experience,
stored in my mind as a favorable artifact of childhood,
and everyone and everything just happened to be in place according to the script.
...Freshly brewed tea in glasses that glow warmly likes candles on the counter.
Playful banter passing back and forth like a basketball from
Friends who seem to bear no secrets or reasons for inhibition.
Is the script real or imagined? Is it no more than a fantasy?
Why would the brain summon this script?
Are you trying to restore something that you remember?
Or are you remembering a perfect moment that never existed and
you hope that it will be?
Is it possible to "remember" the goodness and beauty of something that never was?
Perhaps this thing, indeed, actually was
But could you believe that this specific conception of beauty actually was alive before you?
And it is still alive.
And it wants to live in you.
And "it" is more than a thing but a person
Who knows perfection far better than you could conceive
and knows you far better than you could, too.
...Would you let that person live in you?
What is the effect of union with the spring of all beauty and perfection?
Do you become reconciled fully with all the things you remember, know, and seek as perfect?
Does everything around you suddenly become perfect for you?
Probably not.
Perhaps that "perfect" for which you longed
does not look the way you expect or believe it should.
Maybe perfect was and is too big for you to understand.
Maybe the knowledge of this person will redefine perfection as you know it.
Would you believe that our want of and strive for perfection might be more than falling short of a target but actually be a complete misguided, misunderstanding of what the target is?
It almost seems instinctive, our wanting to restore it.
Maybe our shortcoming is failing to understand that we are actually wanting less than what God intends for us to want, and all that we are to want is in Him.
Can you forgive others for never playing their roles according to your perfect scene?
Can you forgive yourself for allowing your concept of perfection to expect more than what is reasonable?
Can you ask forgiveness from the one who intended so much more than what we seek?In the midst of what is real around us,
we've become so prone to barricading ourselves with layers of fantasy.
We limit ourselves more often than not to the comforts of just a few floor tiles,
only wanting to make imaginary forts and destructible sand castles in our small spaces
because this is the most palpable and accessible way for us to feel like we are personally restoring the kingdom.
No comments:
Post a Comment