Well, my first few weeks at home have certainly been different than I expected. A lot more melancholy but just as much engaging in the ins and outs of my emotions as is to be expected. Home is a place of rest for my body but not so much for my soul. I'm not alone by any means...I have my supportive family and the occasional rekindling of friendship. For the deepest parts of me, I open up on paper and on the phone to Collin, ever an astute listener and thoughtful in his insight. I've grappled with a lot...what happens when all of a sudden I lose all excitement and initiative, not just about beginning a new life, but with the people and places who are most familiar and formative for my mind and heart? I just read the Four Loves and I'm suffering from contemplation overload. But I hope to unpack it over time, and revisit in small portions the wealth of thought and consideration that it stimiluated.
One thing that stuck out to me in the chapter about Eros was the tendency of lovers to be overly serious in their approach to love and sex. "Sensible lovers laugh." I have a hard time laughing at myself when it involves by vulnerabilities...it goes beyond unwillingness to the lack of recognition that I need to not take myself so seriously. Sometimes happiness is visits and provides memory and truth, which gives birth to joy in the time of emotional trials. But lately joy and the whimsicality of life haven't been that tangible.
And so I'm learning to not only let go of my initial responses to depression or insecurity...the desperate attempt to discern what's wrong, the frantic thoughts that assail my senses and tell me I need to be perfect. Thank God for the gift of the Holy Spirit...that quiet whisper that hints at something unknown, something not yet realized in this shifting of my emotions, to not yet act on that inclination to seperate myself from those I love until I have it "figured out." Thank God that he has in a sense "chosen us for one another"...how many times has another person accessed a facet of love, of faith that I haven't, and in that conversation opened up a world of possibility for me to behold along side them in, to discover with them.
I listened to "The Drunkard's Prayer" by Over the Rhine today. I've listened to this cd in various emotional states, and it has that universal quality of longing and rebirth. I was struck by what Karin Bergquist wrote in the liner notes about the experience that gave way to the song "Born," one that resonate so particularly with me right now and with what I read in "The Four Loves." Karin and her husband Linford Detweiler took time off from their extensive touring for "Ohio" because it hit them that their marriage was suffering from lack of time and rest together. In order to "get to know each other again," they decided that every night before bed, they would sit at the kitchen table, open a bottle of wine, and talk until it was finished. I love that image of discipline and effort as one part of the means to rediscover one another, and given time the laughter, the passion will regenerate and remind us that we are not "it" in this world...we can be whimsical members, benefactors, participants in and of something much greater. "When love and duty are one, grace is within you." (The Painted Veil)
I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear
Pour me a glass of wine
Talk deep into the night
Who knows what we'll find
Intuition, deja vu
The Holy Ghost haunting you
Whatever you got
I don't mind
Put your elbows on the table
I'll listen long as I am able
There's nowhere I'd rather be
Secret fears, the supernatural
Thank God for this new laughter
Thank God the joke's on me
We've seen the landfill rainbow
We've seen the junkyard of love
Baby it's no place for you and me
I was born to laugh
I learned to laugh through my tears
I was born to love
I'm gonna learn to love without fear
"Born" - Over the Rhine
