As evidenced by a quick scroll through my recent posts, it’s been a while since I had time to sit down and write. Of course, I’ve written several papers over the past couple weeks; sitting perched on the edge of my desk chair, typing out page after double spaced page as Grooveshark and Pandora work together to keep the non-writing part of my brain entertained.
But that’s school. And as often as I blur the line between school writing and of-my-own-free-will writing, they are not the same.
Whether or not it should, the lack of writing time has affected my thinking time. I can think and process and understand without the assistance of seeing my thoughts take physical form on paper, but it’s harder. Thoughts and wonders, questions and emotions make more sense to me when I can scribble them out. And usually, as I’m involved in the work of making what I feel and think come together to create intelligible sentences, I am able to come to terms with what I’ve written, with what I’ve thought.
Writing equals thinking. Thinking equals (some) understanding. Understanding equals peace.
Thus, very often, writing equals peace.
Now, I’m not saying that writing is some magical way to instantly obtain inner peace and calm, nor am I saying that I am completely content and calm every time I come away from writing. But I do believe that the process of writing enhances my ability to make sense of the inner workings of my own heart and mind.
That being said, you can probably guess how I’ve been feeling lately. In case you can’t figure it out, allow me to summarize: a little lost. I’ve been vaulting from assignment to assignment, hurrying from work day to work day, and I haven’t had much time to unravel my mind and heart and unmuddle myself. And when I do take a sit and take a breath, I’m so wound up and scattered that nothing makes sense, and the brief look inside myself leaves me flustered and additionally confused.
It’s a rather vicious cycle.
And I’m not sure when it ends.
The point at which my life mellows out keeps getting pushed back. Recently it was, if I can just make it to Thursday afternoon… Thursday afternoon came and went, we gave our presentation in class, and I found myself running from event to previous engagement to pretending to do homework for the entire evening. So I tried, if I can just get to Friday night… but I frantically typed up and submitted my final project, and Friday night fed straight into Saturday morning, which found me at the pool surrounded by fellow coaches and scores of tiny swimmers.
After Sunday afternoon… also failed, because hello splitting headache and procrastinating on my Studying and Teaching final. And then it’ll be C-DOC final, and then back home once more to pack for Mexico, then off to Mexico and then…
It doesn’t ever stop. My life goes and goes and goes.
And I guess that’s how it’s supposed to be. We were not made to sit around and think; we were made to think and to do. To do school. To do work. To do relationships. To do life.
So I guess that’s the game plan. And I’m okay with that. God is not going to abandon me in the middle of the hurricane that is my life right now. And He’s not testing me to see how far he can push me before I keel over, either. Somehow, He’s got this down, and He recognizes when I sometimes have a rough go of it.
And that’s good to know. Even when I can’t seem to get a grip and take a pause, He’s on top of things. And that equals peace.