Here’s my journal entry from today:
So many people, including my wife and daughter, say I’m not myself these days. I do feel very very different. They say I seem sad. I’m not sure it’s sad, I said to Lisa. Maybe I’m just starting to believe I am since so many people suggest it. She suggested that I think of all the things I’ve lost in the past several months. Maybe it’s grief.
Right now I’m down on the river shore in front of our house. A beautiful, gorgeous day. Sitting on a rock. The million-rippled waters laps upon the shore. The wind is constant, although high in the stratosphere the clouds hardly move… wispy, smokey sheets of white clouds. The water that passes me by in this river will not return to me again, although in another sense this river never leaves me.
Things I’ve lost:
- Friends: Several have left the church. Things will never be the same again. Sad.
- Finances: My finances have taken a drastic turn. The end of a long decline.
- Pay: Just took a major pay-cut.
- Motorcycle: I watched a pickup back over my bike in a parking lot. Totaled.
- Faith: My faith has changed so much that it is unrecognizable.
However, in spite of all these losses, I’ve made incredible gain. I’ve seen. I am, I see, aswim in God, within, without. Deep in the center there is infinite peace and joy. I wait for this to manifest itself outwardly. I wait for the All to take care of all this.
Every tiny pebble is known. It is familiar. There is a strange sense of belonging as we congregate together on this beach. And the trees, now bare, look out over the water with me, resolute. One lone seagull flew by to check me out. Now it is way out in the center of this wide river, lighting and then taking flight again, many times. Now it is flying way off in the distance, a small and gently fluttering speck of white against the far cliffs and evergreens. Why is it alone, like me?
When one stops to take notice, suddenly the beach is teaming with life. Insects and spiders. A worm. The odd curious seagull. The stones are warm in the sun. A ladybug rests on one. There is peace here, and a complete harmony that seeps into my bones.