An Old Journal Entry...but new for here :)

I just got back my Africa journal...I was reading though it and found some hidden treasures, in the back was an entry from the plane ride home from the Caymans...As I see it, life was good then. I was stable, and a certain someone had not yet infiltrated my existence.
But these thoughts brought me back, and I wanted to share them...

I realized that I never stop thinking, with the infrequent exception of taking a sleeping pill and losing the mental capacity to think. But really, I always am thinking about, "What’s next, what do I have to do, nothing? Ok then, call someone, plan something, accomplish something, so this, don’t do that, talk to these six people because you didn’t yesterday, try to avoid these things today, and maybe you’ll make it back to bed without having an emotional breakdown."
It the very melody and rhythm of my life. It wasn’t until recently that it occurred to me that it makes life very un-enjoyable. See there is nothing like spending a week, eating, and waiting to jump into the next swirling pool of water to keep you from over thinking. I realized that the harmony of life is truly what I enjoy. Those counterparts that you can latch onto, while you listen to the melody go on. I often sing like this, singing into the slightly off flow that’s just wrong enough to be perfect, and when it’s done right makes everything sound better. In a life sort of aspect this is also where my thoughts reside when I stop getting lost in the melody. They float along rather abstractly, not taking people at their face value, but trying to find the motive or plan that drives them. Wondering about the composition of simple life elements. I enjoy life here, I feel like I get more accomplished, like I’m using all of my capacities to broaden my life view.
For instance, when I think about breathing, and send the air all the way through my lungs, into areas that haven’t felt that rush in weeks. Or when I can almost breathe my way through a headache and past thoughts into a rational part of my mind that hasn’t been used in a while.
I spent a lot of time on the beach this last week doing that, taking mental pictures of the reflection of the sun of the water, the likes of which I’d never seen. Walking down the shoreline and observing that life actually existed in those tiny shells that studded the beach. Keeping Coldplay as a soundtrack I sat in the same chair a lot, just watching, then starting to get uncomfortably hot, I’d throw on my mask and snorkel and dive into see what wonders the sea held for me that day.
When I jumped in, the water instantly cured me of the intense heat I felt, Id close my eyes and enjoy the refreshment, but then the fear of what may be in the water with me would grip me and my hold body would tense as I looked for whatever the threat would be. Once the initial apprehension passed though I could explore holes and caverns in the rock that held endless amounts of life and beauty. Brightly colored creatures entered and exited the coral. Occasionally however, my great adventure would be halted by a mistake of my own that would have me sputtering out salt water, and flailing about in the ocean. Then Id return to my thoughtless gazing into the depths.
On the way home from this adventure I was thinking about this whole experience harmonically, because frankly I have nothing else to do. It occurred to me that ones spiritual life could be bettered by thinking this way about most things. (Not to say that one should always think abstractly, as viewing the theology if that oncoming bus might be detrimental in the end) However, I feel that there is something of beauty to be found flowing in the counterparts of a relationship with God.
For instance, just as diving into the water, getting to that place where you feel that God has complete control of your life, has an initial period of worriless bliss, floating along in all of God's grace and love is perfect. Losing your need for control giving it to him is just like jumping in. Then as you start coming around, that feat grips at your mind, wondering if what you’ve given up has also put you at risk for something to sneak up on you from a depth that you couldn’t see, and you panic. After a bit of mental coaxing, however, you can convince yourself that it’s definitely what you’re supposed to be doing, and you continue looking for all of the beauty there is to be found. You keep going until you manage to screw something up and send yourself sputtering back up to the surface, where with prayer and patience you manage to get back to where you were. Or not wanting to work at it anymore, you can politely bow out and head back to your life of self-controlling behaviors and distance from God.

This whole little allegory may seem slightly out there. But this little charade happens with me continuously in and out in and out, flowing between the melodically and harmonic stages of life.

Now granted. The melody of life is where progress and reality lies. But it takes all of the beauty out of life. And the harmonic way is full of depth and meaning, but in this life I can’t to anything of purpose living in this stage. In all honesty they flow much better together, when the two are merged, the sound is greatly improved, beauty and technique become one.
So how do I find this balance in my own life? Because honestly I’d love to be floating through life with God in control and I think he wants me there too. But I also have no desire to go through life with my head in the clouds only to get hit by a bus.