back...again?
Well...No idea why I've returned to the blog world. I initially started the blog so that I could feel in some way to be a participant in the election cycle of which I was so eagerly hoping would end up differently than it did. Alas, what is done is done.
Sometimes, although 99% of those times I do nothing, I feel the urge to write. I'm not a writer by trade nor a writer by want, but there are times when write I do and I suppose, write I must. There's a sense in blogging that one is communicating to an audience that might "understand." You have a notion that others are connecting to what you are saying and experiencing in a way that almost makes it feel as if you are connecting with yourself in a powerful sense. This thought is comforting, and therefore I'll just pretend for the current post that no one is really opposed to my words or cares one way or the other about my ramblings. Instead, you are all here--as in with me, connected and united as one common community front. Enough.
Recently I tried explaining to my father my reasons for not being a part of the organized church. There is a much longer back story to this conversation, but to put it in a much shorter fashion I explained that I had reached a point in my journey as a human being where I felt no longer a part of that paradigm. I have come to experience the journey of faith as one narrative way of making meaning in life amidst a plethora of stories and volumes. In a sense, I came to view my experience with the church as one views a book by Dickens in the local library.
Libraries are amazing and often frightening places. In fact, I am more and more frightened of libraries the older I get. So much knowledge...so much word dumping. It's like a massive landfill of the things we used to find important. Somehow, they ended up in one place with other people's important stuff and they're all mingling together just waiting for us to either 1)forget or 2)find our own use for them. Even for the writers there can no longer function as they once did. For me, the church became one of those stories.
Once you view one's old paradigm as being one amongst the many it's pretty much over. And here, I believe, lies the crux of our contemporary lives. We are in a constant state of multiple signification library realization syndrome. Yuck. Once you have your first taste of the library syndrome of history you can't go back to being a mere peruser of the shelves. Oh no. You're pretty much screwed at this point cause now you can SEE the names and READ the titles and (gasp) UNDERSTAND the differences in volumes.
And now, I too add to the stacks. Place this blog in the catalog. We keep doing it cause it's one of those fights for permanancy. We're fighting for being every friggin day, and there's no stopping it. The babies keep coming. The mind keeps humming. We made machines in our image after all. We will create. We will un/ravel and march. We will.
For me:
The glass has been broken and the cup has been laid waste.
For all that remains the earth will have her fill.
I too--one day--hope to be a/part. To be the chalice I once threw down.
Sometimes, although 99% of those times I do nothing, I feel the urge to write. I'm not a writer by trade nor a writer by want, but there are times when write I do and I suppose, write I must. There's a sense in blogging that one is communicating to an audience that might "understand." You have a notion that others are connecting to what you are saying and experiencing in a way that almost makes it feel as if you are connecting with yourself in a powerful sense. This thought is comforting, and therefore I'll just pretend for the current post that no one is really opposed to my words or cares one way or the other about my ramblings. Instead, you are all here--as in with me, connected and united as one common community front. Enough.
Recently I tried explaining to my father my reasons for not being a part of the organized church. There is a much longer back story to this conversation, but to put it in a much shorter fashion I explained that I had reached a point in my journey as a human being where I felt no longer a part of that paradigm. I have come to experience the journey of faith as one narrative way of making meaning in life amidst a plethora of stories and volumes. In a sense, I came to view my experience with the church as one views a book by Dickens in the local library.
Libraries are amazing and often frightening places. In fact, I am more and more frightened of libraries the older I get. So much knowledge...so much word dumping. It's like a massive landfill of the things we used to find important. Somehow, they ended up in one place with other people's important stuff and they're all mingling together just waiting for us to either 1)forget or 2)find our own use for them. Even for the writers there can no longer function as they once did. For me, the church became one of those stories.
Once you view one's old paradigm as being one amongst the many it's pretty much over. And here, I believe, lies the crux of our contemporary lives. We are in a constant state of multiple signification library realization syndrome. Yuck. Once you have your first taste of the library syndrome of history you can't go back to being a mere peruser of the shelves. Oh no. You're pretty much screwed at this point cause now you can SEE the names and READ the titles and (gasp) UNDERSTAND the differences in volumes.
And now, I too add to the stacks. Place this blog in the catalog. We keep doing it cause it's one of those fights for permanancy. We're fighting for being every friggin day, and there's no stopping it. The babies keep coming. The mind keeps humming. We made machines in our image after all. We will create. We will un/ravel and march. We will.
For me:
The glass has been broken and the cup has been laid waste.
For all that remains the earth will have her fill.
I too--one day--hope to be a/part. To be the chalice I once threw down.
posted by trig gov at 11:19 PM
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