One of those seasons

After several months of being very regular in my blog thought-life I have seemingly entered into one of those seasons where putting anything into words seems a stretch. It is not that I am not thinking—just that my thinking seems to be formative and not substantive.

The feeling is as if part of the hard-drive of my mind is behind a curtain and is not readily acessible to me—I haven’t lost anything but what is there is not creating any energy of its own. In other words there have been seeds planted in the ground but they are waiting for the appropriate amount of sunshine and rain before they even begin to think of sprouting. And for a blogger and verbal processor this is a real trial—what happened to that kid I used to know who had lots to say about anything that came to mind.

It is like playing a musical instrument in that you practice and practice until you begin to notice a change in sound quality—then it seems you peak for a while and don’t move off the black square for several weeks or months. It is hard to maintain the practice discipline during that period when growth doesn’t seem to be happening. Growth is taking place—just not at a speed that can be picked up on by our internal radar. And when we do notice the change and benefit from the feeling that movement imparts it really is a cumulative result of those weeks and months we seemed stuck in the same place. A spouse or friend may have notcied the incremental improvement but to our ears things were not sounding as sweet as we would like.

It is that middle place that I referenced several posts ago—the point between who we were and who we are becoming. I am surrounded by several things I could do right now—books to read, songs to listen to, plants to get in the ground before frost begins and so on. I am at once the creator and the created—hoping there is still enough elasticity in the clay of who I am to allow the form of who I am becoming to be shaped.

The poet T. S. Eliot said: Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.

And I guess the reverse is also true—we can’t wait to communicate with one another until we fully understand what it is we desire to communicate.

So, as this stream of thoughts passes by like a slowly flowing river, we can all jump in and float for a while and enjoy the ride.

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3 Responses to One of those seasons

  1. ded says:

    I relate…more than one period of growth through a dormant time in my life. Ever read The Cloud of Unknowing?8^)

  2. Terry Henry says:

    I have not read the book but it sounds interesting from what I read about it on Wikipedia. And I quote:”And so I urge you, go after experience rather than knowledge. On
    account of pride, knowledge may often deceive you, but this gentle,
    loving affection will not deceive you. Knowledge tends to breed
    conceit, but love builds. Knowledge is full of labor, but love, full of
    rest.”go after experience rather than knowledgeI think I am hard-wired to go after knowledge…I mean what do you do after the experience but try to understand it or talk about it or write or paint about it.There is a site where it can be downloaded as well.Thanks for the lead.

  3. Ellie says:

    You’re the graetest! JMHO

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