Oh Lord, I am manic.
Today was like bliss, but I used that word already.
It was joyful. Nope, used it.
Beautiful? Oh yes. Beauty followed me around everywhere and has for the last couple of days. In fact, yesterday, the day of the Secret Squirrel (great Vietnamese coffee), I was cruising along so far ahead that when I got to Queen Avenue, I just slowed w . . . a . . . y down as I moved up Queen. Actually, it was down Queen, as the addresses get smaller. And I was going to end up at Ray’s Farm for a nice prayer break (hence the name of the route:”Prayer”.) It was beautiful, is so so beautiful, but I have used that word a lot. And I DO NOT want it to lose its meaning . . . because I mean it!
Delightful? Crud, used already. All the words, the good ones, I have used (haven’t I?). No, I am saving some of them for later . . .
Ineffable? No, no, this day was very effable, I just cannot think straight, and come up with much.
The music today was as perfect as could be and it kept presenting itself to me in waves as I sailed along. It was fun, easygoing, evocative to the point that I thought I’d stop delivering mail and curl up under a tree, but I did not stop. And neither did the music. There was dancing, a brief storm, travel, a lot of color, moving and settling, strength, passion, quietness, romance, and dancing. Did I say there was dancing?
I’d blame it all on Sally, who was the day sponsor on AllClassical 89.9, but as far as I can tell she is Norwegian. And I did not dig too deeply into that. I love the mystery of it, and I do not have to know the answers to almost all of the questions. Only that it all is.
Sure, I’d like an answer someday, but today I am too manic to think. Anyway, manic or not, our benevolent Father is the source. Too, too good, this miracle is, and without being unbearable.
It embraced me and kissed my soul too.
And all of that while I am in exile! It’s a funky sort of exile, not an epic one like the exiles you may have read about. But, it is real nonetheless. It is what it is to each of us, right? And you’re the only one who knows. I had sincerely planned at some point to go into self-exile, to separate myself for a time of prayer and fasting, but I was not sure about the timing. That is why I know this is it: I did not yet seek it; it came to me—officially last Sunday, although it had crept in earlier.
My reading for Sunday was from Psalm 69:1-8, and began with a reference from the Celtic Church to three colors: Red for death (for the sake of Christ), Green for controlling desires through fasting and hard work, and White for exile from home and family. Well, I won’t write more about that, except to say that I am in it for a time, and I shall mark 20 May as the day for it. It will end and go seamlessly into a new beginning and I may not even realize that it has happened. These things tend toward that. I enjoy it and return the embrace of it and greet it with my holiest kiss.
Therefore, it is not true mania because there is no real downside to it. God has any of that in his hand. Instead, there is faith, hope, and love (and all the other words, used and used not yet), and a movement from dark and closed to light and airy.
And it will never end.
Never . . .
Photograph “From/To” © 2018 Timothy Waugh