Deliver Me In A Black-Winged Bird

Somehow 32 ounces of my self-made vanilla Dr. Pepper concoction from QuikTrip (with crushed ice!) was still not enough.  The cup is now empty and I am still thirsty. 

So I've been thinking about sorting through some stuff via the keyboard for a few weeks now.  But first I wanted to wrestle with it on my own.  From my balcony.  On the couch.  Driving in my car.  Again from the balcony.  Just wherever I was that didn't involve talking to customers at the bank.  For a wordy (wordywordywordywordy) guy, I've been anything but loquacious lately.  (Heh, I just double-checked the definition of loquacious at dictionary.com, where I also came across garrulous.  The lesson, as always, is that words are fun, and that I am a dork.)

First though, some Counting Crows trivia.  When asked about what led to his writing the song Rain King, Adam Duritz once said this:

I read this book in college when I was at Berkeley called "Henderson, the Rain King." And the main character in the book was kind of this big, open-wound of a person, Eugene Henderson, he just sot of bled all over everyone around him. For better or for worse, full of joy, full of sorrow, he just made a mess of everything. And when I wrote the song years later, it didn't really have anything to do with the book except the book had kind of become a totem for how I felt about creativity and writing--that it was just this thing where you just took everything inside of you and just sort of [funny noise] sprayed it all over everything, and not to worry too much about it. You try and craft it but not to be self-conscious about it, in any case. And, it's sort of a song about everything that goes into writing, all the feelings, everything that makes you want to write, makes you want to maybe pick up a guitar and do it, and express yourself because it's full of all the doubts and the fears about ho w I felt about my life at that time. And also the feeling that I really deserved something better than what I had accomplished up to that point. I think it *is* sort of a religious song about the sort of undefinable thing inside you or out there somewhere that makes you write, makes you create, makes you do any kind of art form, you know? And that makes me the rain king, sort of.

I've got no less than eight different versions of this song on my ipod, and they're all great.  I can't get it out of my head these days.  Counting Crows come to Dallas in early September...can't wait.

But yeah, back to the sorting.  There's this odd thing going on right now in my heart.  It feels like soil getting tilled by uh, some sort of farm equipment.  A tiller, maybe?  I don't know.  Small hometown or not, I'm still a city kid.  At any rate, I have these days that just fade one into another, and they all look so similar.  There's a tension there, though, of wanting/knowing/expecting/sensing something else just off the horizon.  And I am chomping at the proverbial bit to find out what that might be.  The future keeps feeling so close I can almost taste it...but the time spent between hitting the alarm and the pillow doesn't always feel like it's getting me any closer. 

Normally I'm an impatient kind of guy, so I'm trying to remain calm and patient for a change.  Life doesn't unfold all at once.  It gets doled out one hour at a time.  But I also tend to over analyze things.  I look too hard, for too long, before leaping.  At times I can also be flat out lazy.  I agonize daily over what else I can or should be doing to cultivate change.  To initiate things, to kick start a new direction.  Lots of thinking, little doing.  I need something to do.

So in this time of personal discontent, I am praying for more faith.  Enough to fill a mustard seed.  For enough faith to cover over my insecurities and doubt.  Faith enough to stand here until it is time to move. 

Comments

[itsmejules]

David David David...

I had this conversation in Australia. I live in New Mexico? What's in New Mexico? My family. And lots of dirt and sand. And sometimes Jessica Simpson when she's filming a movie here. Other than that, it's just New Mexico. An odd familiar feeling of home, and I like that...but I always feel like (wait for the Counting Crows reference) "I deserve a little more." And it makes me feel selfish, because I got a pretty good life. An awesome (dysfunctional) family, a nice place to live, a cool car, two great jobs. So, what's missing? Nothing and everything. A feeling that I can be doing so much more, that I need and want to feel more alive. So, from this small novel, what am I trying to say? Don't feel guilty for wanting something more than what you already have. And find what makes you happy and fulfilled, don't be afraid if it's outside the box.

[Tammy]

OK, you're a dork, I'm a nerd, so what is Larry?
And following in the family tradition, my son has recently realized that he too is a nerd. But what I am trying to instill in him is that being a nerd is ok. God made each of us special, we can't all be the popular, cool kids.
Anticipation of what is around the corner is what keeps life interesting. Keep up the good work, you are a geat example for my little nerd.

[Autumn]

If you've never stared off in the distance, then your life is a shame.

[Autumn]

inTO the distance?

[Marti]

I know what you mean. Waiting sucks. Anticipation starts to wane but the knowing that God is up to something is exhilirating. Knowing that I get to be apart of it - priceless. I pray that God's presence fills the space of wait, that the tilling of your heart would result in a closer relationship with him as he continues to polish his reflection in you.

[sara]

you should go buy awake is the new sleep. i don't know that it will help you with any of the waiting and this whole period in your life, but it's ben lee... and you shouldn't go anywhere without him.

[Brad Forehand]

Maybe you should come have a visit to my couch? - its always open