White Text - 09

whitetext was a private livejournal account I kept following a breakup in 2004. The entries came from a deep depression. They have been recollected here for data preservation.

i think there are too many things in my days. they keep me from being truly happy. in my mind, i want to spend an afternoon watching a flower, or an evening with my feet in the cool waters of a stream. i want to sit still on my floor, letting the moonlight drape across my body. i don’t think of these things as lazy. i don’t think of them as inaction. they would be the greatest, most pure action i could ever do. the perfect experience.

i envy the monks and friars who can experience the life of a cloister. devotion to that way of life above all other things. i envy the lifestyle, the purity and passion in it all. i don’t believe in the same dogma, though. i would love to press myself into holy orders, but it’s a touch beyond ironic. i would not live that way for god. i wouldn’t do it for the church. i would do it for me. i want the life to flower. rushing from thing to thing in my life is too hectic. there is no direction because there is no goal. if i could put on the robes, even for a few months, and let go of the world, of my connections and distractions and really listen to a sunset, taste a rainfall, drown in silence, i imagine i would be at peace.

there is too much in my life. too much furnature, too many books, too much sound and light and coffee. too much oxygen. far, far too many people.

in the navy, people called me reverend. they never asked what religion i was, or what my beliefs were because it wasn’t important. to them, i was a conduit through which they could express their own spirituality in comfort. if i said a prayer with them, they bowed their heads and felt it deeply. if i asked them what their problems were, it was a confession. that freedom for them was the most appropriate action for me. i was beyond my best, i was in my path. it wasn’t about religion. it was about spirituality and about the soul.

william penn once said, “true silence is the rest of the mind, and is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.” i’ve been without true silence for so long, i’m beginning to forget the sound. even in my meditations it is getting harder and harder to quiet myself. i’ve never been in that position before, and it frightens me. it makes me want to take action, any action, to try and solve my situation. the future is vague.