Today I have the desire to create, to express something. When God created out of nothing, I wonder if this is what He felt. The desire to produce something outside of Himself that would affect Himself. Just because.
I have difficulty with Just Because. I want there to be intentionality behind what I do. And then this desire creeps in. And I never quite know what to do with it. I want to leave something greater than myself in the wake of this desire.
And desire is hard for me too. Just because it’s been so long since this desire has been present just because. Because the fulfillment of my desires seems to always be just out of reach. Why don’t I just go make things happen? There is that element. And I think I’ve been good about walking through the doors that have presented themselves in my life. It’s just that in the walking I also hold wanting and the wanting doesn’t come about in the way I want. In the time I want. And the best answer to the question “Why?” seems to be just because. And “When?” is answered by silence.
2011 was hard. A lot of difficult things happened to people that I loved. To people I didn’t know at all. And to myself. And I want to see what comes from that. What is created out of the ashes and scabs and bruises. I want to hope that there’s more than just because in the midst of last year. And yet I’ve seen the beauty that comes from just because when met with faith and hope. And I want that to be me. And in the midst of the residual of 2011 that’s crept in to 2012, I want to create in my life and response. To view creativity as not just a process of working with sound and material and time and space and words, but see it as something that I engage in when who I am meets life. And trust that what comes from the process, just because, will produce something external that would affect the internal.
Summer and I have a complicated relationship. As a child, I remember going to bed while it was still light out while my friends played in the culdesac. My family's moves happened in the summertime. I went to some summer camps with friends. I went to many summer camps by myself. I attended summer classes and watched my friends travel. I traveled to Paris and watched my friends stay home. I toured with my band during the summer. I worked multiple summer jobs. I endured summer's heat and humidity for underprivileged kids. I relished the icy ocean for summer's perfect wave. I despise heat. I love barbecues. For me, summer has held Dickens' best and worst of times.
But it's the light that gets me the most. Nothing awakens longing in me like summer evening light. It's extended. It seems more tired. It holds the potential of the night's coolness and the memory of the day's warmth. It has a power over me, to make me miss something that I can never quite put to words. It makes me feel restless, unwilling to go to bed and wishing I could wake up earlier. It calls me to adventure and makes routine feel like it's just a prelude to something bigger to come. It always asks of me a question to which I am unable to answer. It awakens the Sehnsucht of which C.S. Lewis writes. And still, for the ache it brings, I love its pull. It's complicated.