My soul wanders in a small loop, looking for a permanent home or purpose even, searching for meaning in the endless chaos of my life. It's sure but unsure, convicted but easily swayed, distracted but focused. I'm a magpie, an enigma, a storm on a beautiful day. Just like outside this morning where the sun beamed onto the clouds heavy with rain as they pushed in against the blue, turning everything grey and dim, muting what was supposed to be a day devoid of obligation or purpose.
At least for me.
But I can't embrace it. I can't work with it. I can't relax ever. I don't know why. Sam and Caleb separately gave me the same answer and it surprised me, in that my soul is still looking. I don't give Caleb any credit as when he takes it he locks it in a small box and it remains with him. I do give Sam credit as he has a direct line and can get answers as I need them, though I may not necessarily like them.
It's okay, he tells me. You don't have to like them. Or accept them. They're there regardless.
Schrodinger's Jesus?
In a way, yes, Sam laughs.
At least for me.
But I can't embrace it. I can't work with it. I can't relax ever. I don't know why. Sam and Caleb separately gave me the same answer and it surprised me, in that my soul is still looking. I don't give Caleb any credit as when he takes it he locks it in a small box and it remains with him. I do give Sam credit as he has a direct line and can get answers as I need them, though I may not necessarily like them.
It's okay, he tells me. You don't have to like them. Or accept them. They're there regardless.
Schrodinger's Jesus?
In a way, yes, Sam laughs.