So Now Then...
A prayer, of sorts...
People like Kristy can certainly correct me all that they want, but I'm under the understanding that primitive cultures held a respect for words and phrasing and the power and the charge that they can hold. That a prayer, or an invocation was a means of summoning benevolent power for desireable ends. Greek epics would begin with an imploration to "sing, o muse" and guide my story. The Lord's Prayer is a plea to "Our Father, who art in heaven..." and, after a series of recognitions of His divine providence and power, the prayer continues to oultine the respect and reverence one holds for one's creator.
If, you know, you're into that sort of thing.
I bring this up right now, not because I believe in the power of the muse, and not to get into any kind of theological discussion--not in the least, since my spirituality in a greater, organized sense is the least of my priorities right now. No, I bring this up as a reminder to people out there in Internet Land as to the power of words, and the strength of them and the weight of them. Words can be a millstone, or a feather--they have the power to snuff a candle as well as light one.
In short, I believe in the power of words--really, above all else.
So, now then. What does this have to do with anything?
In light of recent events, and the branching possiblities that are kind of spread before me, like a fanned deck of cards, I've got to return to words, and their power, and the danger that this contains.
And I'd also, if you'll allow, like to make a prayer. An invocation. To take on the power of words, perhaps, or soemthing less pretentious--but to harness a certain something to get me through the next week.
I've a paper due in two days I haven't started. I've a short story due in about six, that I have started but it's a bit of a doosy.
Really, though, I'm not going to be thinking about either one very much--it's terribly likely I'll finish both on time, and do fine on them, but I'll be driving on autopilot.
Why?
1) Actions in the past have a tendency--especially with me--to cause Trinity-ripples, timequakes and other seismic anomalies on down through the months. Things happen, and my weak, sad little heart can't let them go.
2) Because of Item 1, I end up being blind in a fully lit cave--to torture the metaphor. I'm purposefully turning off lights--but to what end? I don't know that I'm making a whole lot of sense, here, but I'm trying to take all of this a bit broader in scope, soas not to reduce this post to innefectual whining and passive-agressive whatever-baiting. Though I am working some shit out in my head, and that's a bit of what all of this is, it's also meant to be a...general, all-purpose salve.
So, anyway, busy times coming up. Lots to distract me, good and bad. And the power of words.
With that, I'd like to offer my intonation--my prayer. My divination, if you'll allow.
To time, and her inexorable march, may her steps prove lighter in the future, and may the sound of them finally receede off into the distance until I can no longer hear their echo.
To work, and the shroud of responsiblity that comes with it, may I rise to the challenge and meet all expectations and know that I did everything in my power to accomplish what is required of me to the best of my abilities.
To sleep, and the few, fleeting fragments I seem to catch, may you seem enough for my meagre physiology, and may you be enough so that I'm sated, and fed, and nourished by your warm embrace.
To the sun, may you shine.
To words, may you be worthy enough to be the medium through which I can feebly adapt the few, fleeting feelings of my failed and foibled heart.
And, finally, to her, may she know that I always mean what I say, and I always say what I mean.
Selah.
People like Kristy can certainly correct me all that they want, but I'm under the understanding that primitive cultures held a respect for words and phrasing and the power and the charge that they can hold. That a prayer, or an invocation was a means of summoning benevolent power for desireable ends. Greek epics would begin with an imploration to "sing, o muse" and guide my story. The Lord's Prayer is a plea to "Our Father, who art in heaven..." and, after a series of recognitions of His divine providence and power, the prayer continues to oultine the respect and reverence one holds for one's creator.
If, you know, you're into that sort of thing.
I bring this up right now, not because I believe in the power of the muse, and not to get into any kind of theological discussion--not in the least, since my spirituality in a greater, organized sense is the least of my priorities right now. No, I bring this up as a reminder to people out there in Internet Land as to the power of words, and the strength of them and the weight of them. Words can be a millstone, or a feather--they have the power to snuff a candle as well as light one.
In short, I believe in the power of words--really, above all else.
So, now then. What does this have to do with anything?
In light of recent events, and the branching possiblities that are kind of spread before me, like a fanned deck of cards, I've got to return to words, and their power, and the danger that this contains.
And I'd also, if you'll allow, like to make a prayer. An invocation. To take on the power of words, perhaps, or soemthing less pretentious--but to harness a certain something to get me through the next week.
I've a paper due in two days I haven't started. I've a short story due in about six, that I have started but it's a bit of a doosy.
Really, though, I'm not going to be thinking about either one very much--it's terribly likely I'll finish both on time, and do fine on them, but I'll be driving on autopilot.
Why?
1) Actions in the past have a tendency--especially with me--to cause Trinity-ripples, timequakes and other seismic anomalies on down through the months. Things happen, and my weak, sad little heart can't let them go.
2) Because of Item 1, I end up being blind in a fully lit cave--to torture the metaphor. I'm purposefully turning off lights--but to what end? I don't know that I'm making a whole lot of sense, here, but I'm trying to take all of this a bit broader in scope, soas not to reduce this post to innefectual whining and passive-agressive whatever-baiting. Though I am working some shit out in my head, and that's a bit of what all of this is, it's also meant to be a...general, all-purpose salve.
So, anyway, busy times coming up. Lots to distract me, good and bad. And the power of words.
With that, I'd like to offer my intonation--my prayer. My divination, if you'll allow.
To time, and her inexorable march, may her steps prove lighter in the future, and may the sound of them finally receede off into the distance until I can no longer hear their echo.
To work, and the shroud of responsiblity that comes with it, may I rise to the challenge and meet all expectations and know that I did everything in my power to accomplish what is required of me to the best of my abilities.
To sleep, and the few, fleeting fragments I seem to catch, may you seem enough for my meagre physiology, and may you be enough so that I'm sated, and fed, and nourished by your warm embrace.
To the sun, may you shine.
To words, may you be worthy enough to be the medium through which I can feebly adapt the few, fleeting feelings of my failed and foibled heart.
And, finally, to her, may she know that I always mean what I say, and I always say what I mean.
Selah.