Sabbath Attempt 4

Twitching, fretting, and nervous from work, I could not enter Sabbath. Could not rest. I planned to pass the evening at Nomad double- and triple-dipping in the delicious written word. I planned to let my spirit simmer in the warmth of close conversation. But as I walked through the door, only my worries and unfinished business held sway. The books played only at the edges of my vision, my cares took center stage. Only by narrowing my focus to that which I could see through my camera's viewfinder did my life's inconsistencies lose their foothold. By seeking to capture this present instant in a tiny frame, I finally let go of the past and the future's distracting complexity.

Morning brought its own challenges. From an overflowing coffee pot to failure in expressing my spiritual fears, my nervous mind replayed its patterns. Without the context of SAU, I invented new items to worry about. To twitch and fret over. I ended in a stalemate trip to Ann Arbor, returning with a car full of food but still empty of peace.

The evening's highs and lows seemed appropriate. With new house ideas in my mind and the skillful sounds of marimba and strings in my ears, I hoped to finally find Sabbath. Yet still elusive, the notes which resonated with my soul brought with them sounds of doubt and discord. Was I born for such a life as I now live? Should I have turned left at LaDue Hall, walking down the path of music? I turned right into Marston, walking into Psychology...then technology...and now organization. I feel most like my God-image self when I'm creative, when in nurturing relationship, when dancing on horseback. Should I have turned left at LaDue?