tension

I've been thinking a lot about tension, about allowing it to exist and being ok with it. As I've been thinking, I've started to see tension applying to a lot of categories in my life. In fact, it seems to exist in every category.

For instance (briefly), politics: my upbringing plus my understanding of history plus my beliefs concerning people's inherent fallenness make me lean conservative, but my bleeding heart (which I don't consider naïve) makes me lean big government/lots of programs; psychology: how much must I "believe in myself" creatively, etc. in order to come into my own, so to speak, and how much has pop psychology bullshit seeped into and twisted what should be the praise and love of God, familiarity with my position in his family, and total trust in his sovereignty as the ultimate answer to mental health, specifically but not limited to depression and anxiety, which together are the bane of my creativity; music, généralement: tension is the reason I am still more moved by "classical" music, the composers of which were more acquainted and comfortable with tension than most modern artists (other than Radiohead), their music still speaking what words can't about this life of tension.

I could go on and on.

I see tension everywhere - which I only just realized thanks to a conversation with a dear brother - so that I'm rarely capable of getting across what's going on in my head because I run back and forth from this side of the argument to that, never completely spelling out either because, as my mind runs ahead of my mouth, I'm thinking of an apology against the capitulation I'm speaking.

Questions questions questions, which I'm starting to see as tension tension tension, which I'm finally starting to be ok with, because really, back to the psychology bit, this whole train of thought serves to make me even more aware just how utterly necessary it is to be leaning on and trusting in God - how could I not go insane otherwise? - these mysteries being his, for which I'm so thankful, because I need mystery.

You're tired of being in your head? You want to see something new? Following Christ - really trusting and loving him and losing my life to gain it - is proving to be a more exciting life than I imagined existed. Please, I beg you, consider him. Leave for a moment your problems with christendom and consider him. O, the man acquainted with sorrows knows your pain! He knows about the big insatiably thirsty hole in your being and he stands up and cries, "If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink!"

Go to him. Drink.

invierno

This is the first day of December, and today, for the first time, it snowed. Agreeable symmetry, if you ask me.

I shouldn't have slept as long as I did today. There's something in my bones that can tell when it's snowing or raining - a barometer, say - and today, my bones communicated with my subconscious like this:

"Hey Subconscious. Um. You wanted us to tell you when it was snowing. Um. It's snowing."
"Thank you, The Bones. That'll be all."

Then, my snooty, suit-and-tie-wearing subconscious, who had rolled from the computer over to the phone in his too-expensive rolling leather chair, rolled back to the computer and sent an e-mail to my concious:

"ATTN: Conscious

Problem: The Bones informed me it is snowing currently.
Consideration: The Boss likes to sleep when it is snowing.
Submission: When the alarm sounds, signal The Hands to shut it off quickly, and I shall take him back under for another hour.

Efficiently yours,
Subconscious

sc

P.S. Absolutely loved that sweet-potato casserole. Send the recipe?"

My conscious found this submission consonant with his lethargic leanings, and I got up an hour late. I made up for it, though, by working until seven this evening. Of course, you are probably thinking Ian! here you are, writing trite, inconsequential things instead of sleeping so you can be up early tomorrow! Actions! not words.

Loud and clear. Here I go.

(He didn't send the recipe because my subconscious said "shall" instead of "will," and he felt that needed punishing. Also, the lethargy.)