Thursday, May 13, 2010


The blog has been quiet lately.  A bit more sparse than usual.  Not so my brain.  My brain churns and whirls and goes a mile a minute.  The difficulty lies in stopping, focusing and landing on words, bloggable words, that can make sense of the cacophony.

I find myself looking into the distance a lot these days.  Losing myself in clouds and skylines and sunsets (if the sun was ever out).  I am behind about things I mean to blog about.  Baby goat turned 14 months old and I still haven't sat and focused my words to tell you all about this little perfect boy who holds my heart.

He woke up a bit early this morning and I took him back to bed with us.  We cuddled and he used us as a play gym and we rested a bit more too.  At one point I found myself with his foot in my hand and I was struck by the mystery of it all.

How are those 5 perfect little toes and that round fat foot growing so big, so fast?  How is it that someday he might be in size 12 shoes stomping about when for now he is limited to flinging himself at things walking fast so he doesn't fall down like some tiny drunken elf?

The future is on my mind.  The immediate and the far away futures.  The problem with looking at horizons though is that the possibilities are too great.  There are so many places to look and it can be a challenge to take it all in at once.  Looking at the future is the same.  The possibilities of our lives spiral out exponentially.  A single crossroads become 2, become 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, etc.

So I look at the horizon and squint and try to make out the best path.  Is it the roundabout path with lots of scenery?  The straight and narrow path?  What about the bumps?  Because there will be bumps.

And so I'm left with swirling, spiraling thoughts and a blog post that says almost nothing. 

I get this way some times.  Too much sci fi maybe, or too much theology.  Either way my brain struggles to contain and order the infinite.  I imagine that must be why there are constellations in the sky.  The vast diamond studded heavens had to be named and contained in something we could fully grasp.  Millions of stars are too vast; they are overwhelmingly beautiful when taken as one.  It is easier to say there is the great bear, the dragon, the little dipper.  These are the markers that order the stars.

I'm in need of a few markers in my head, to order the flood, to define the landscape.  Late last night I got out to run and today I am more focused for it.  The 30 minutes of focusing on simply placing one foot in front of the other made the spirals straighten a bit.  I need more of that.

They say when you are motion sick you should focus on one spot in the horizon and simply look toward that.  Maybe I just need to choose my spot.


Emma said...

Great post! I have an overactive mind, too. Running has always been my time to gain perspective, and more recently, yoga, too. That mind-body connection truly is powerful. Oh, and spirit, too, of course! Hope you find a good spot on which to focus your gaze.

Amelia Sprout said...

Running does that for me too. The next day, things seems easier to process and remember. Maybe running helps restore some of the pathways that pre-e destroyed.

For me, I like the close up places to look for. Little goals that get me to the next little goal. Otherwise there is just too much to ponder.

Christina said...

Beautifully written, Liz!

I relate too. Sometimes you can almost feel the mind at work -- it can be dizzying.

But I think it's a good thing you've got so much going on upstairs, including all that good theology. :)

Hyacynth said...

Yes!! Yes. And more yes!! I get lost in the horizons, too. It baffles, overwhelms and humbles me. But I remember, when I'm lost in them, that God is SO much bigger than I can even imagine. So at the same time, I'm comforted. Don't know if that makes sense.

Rebecca said...

Your post says a lot, Liz. It's definitely not "about nothing." You captured in words what so many of us are thinking and experiencing. You just took the time to put words to those thoughts and emotions.

Roxane B. Salonen said...

Liz, I feel a little unfocused and scattered right now, unsure of what is ahead. I go in starts and stops and then again. I'm a little confused. I'm not sure I can choose one spot on which to land right now. So I'm trying to just accept it as part of the process of journeying in this crazy life. I love how you've described the uncertainty. It's beautifully put.

kristine said...

Liz, you are such a good writer. I hope the swirling thoughts are able to come to a halt soon - or at least can be tamed.