It is just now 1:05 am and as good a time as ever to start yet another journal. My life is awfully good at present. Someday I may be too old and tire and mean-spirited to think that, so I must write this day down now so that I can look back on it when they've put me in "the" home and remember that this was real...
...there's only one lamp lit in my room. The lift is soft and nice in here on these blue walls and white gabled ceilings, on this paper and these sheets, soft and nice like the sound of that one dog barking half a block away. Florida beat Nebraska tonight while we watched. It's weird how much I enjoy watching sports on TV when I'm around other people, but how I'd never think to tune it in when I'm alone. It's weird what is social and bonding and is something altogether other than what it is...
...and tonight I am pretty toasty under these sheets even with the heater off and the window open. But tonight is not yet half over - today is still an embryo sleeping in this womb of darkness (gee - that's dramatic) and I am slipping away. My eyes burn a little, my shoulders ache, my neck is stiff, and my head feels heavy. This is - in some weird way - a good way to feel after you've cleaned and walked and eaten and played and watched football and laughed and rested and imagined.
Now I will read a bit more in Matthew. Yesterday God told Joseph to marry Mary, to name her Child, and to take them to Egypt and then to take them back to Israel. I wonder if Joseph's life was simpler when he was single. I wonder if he missed the quiet life or if he was (as St. Ignatius said) "indifferent" to all nature...
Today I bought a far nicer cello than I can reasonably justify owning. And I registered for classes. Tomorrow Beaker and I are looking at guitars. Tonight I went with friends to dinner. I loved being with them. Sometimes I just do and it has nothing to do with why I should. It goes beyond that - it comes from behind door #2 and it's better than any deal I ever made. "I want to shout your name out loud, but I shout inside instead..." That's a Bruce Cockburn line. It's true too. And I'll tell you what else... I spent a lot of money today with school and the cello and all. I spent all day spending money only to come home to the best life possible which has nothing to do with money...
There is something comforting in going to bed with your bags packed. There is something reassuring in seeing your clothes folded and sorted and knowing they're clean and that tomorrow, when the alarm goes off, they will be there exactly as you left them. And whether or not you are quite ready for your trip, your clothes are.
...And then there are those clothes - laid out - not folded, to be worn tomorrow. They are draped across the little straw trunk from China with socks and underwear on top, then your shirt, then your sweater, then your pants. And when you finish showering you will dress from the top of the heap to the bottom and from what's nearest you to what's nearest everyone else. All that's left to do after you shower is put your toilet kit in your bag, grab your instruments and get to the airport.
...It's great to leave when you have so much to come home to and so much to go away to see. A person couldn't be happier on Venus, and heaven will be good when my body is folded neatly and tucked into a little hole. It's just that for now, I'm the one who gets to do the packing...
...Now I have to go to sleep. Tomorrow night we will be in another city, if our plans are honored. I did not read the Bible today. I am not very good at being religious and don't really feel too bad about not being too good. I do wish that I loved God and His creatures more...
At the "Y" today this one guy who is usually very friendly talked a little bitterly about how I seem to have it so good. I suppose I do, although I sometimes feel like it's more than I can handle. I guess the grass is always greener... I think I would envy me too, if I didn't know me better...
Tonight I cannot talk to myself. Oh, Lord, You alone can comfort me. Tonight, not only do I find this world frightening - I am frightened of the evil that I am capable of. I am frightened of that which You (I believe) would deliver me from, and yet I will not let go. Help me to let go, Lord. "Deliver us from evil..." You taught us to pray. Maybe this fear is part of the lesson. Deliver us from evil - from moral duplicity and weakness, from laziness and spiritual complacency, from those lies we tell ourselves from our fear of facing the truth. I think, Lord, that we're all afraid of werewolves - not afraid of being destroyed by one - afraid of being one...
I need to get to sleep. I think I should write at my desk since it's so hard to have good penmanship in bed. Bed is not a place where penmanship usually counts for a lot. I guess it's kind of a sad commentary on my life that it should count in mine...
...it is a beautiful night out - a good strong moon, stars, a beautiful black sky and Wichita all lit up under it. I listened to "Adagio For Strings" tonight. It is a beautiful sound, and maybe I will sleep tonight for certain. And maybe I'll feel rested in the morning, and maybe I will someday write something as beautiful as "Adagio...," something as beautiful as this night. And if I had a child, I'd tell him to let these things speak to him as I cannot speak, and to see in them what cannot yet be seen in himself, and know that a day is coming when the night will envy his beauty and when "Adagio..." will sound like a theory assignment compared to the sound that he will be. One vibrant, shimmering answer that silences the noise of proud skepticism.
