It's a strange feeling to be on holiday. Albeit I will still be working a few days, the thought of having "free" days with no burden of assignments, early mornings or caffeine overload guilt, is both liberating and irritating. Being someone who constantly has a billion things to do, means these small windows of relative freedom leave me pondering. There are a few things I have to do that I stored up on my imaginary "to do in the holidays" list, but I don't want to do them all in the first few days for fear of feeling completely lost at the end of the three weeks. For some strange reason (and I don't think i am the only one) I have realized that I find some sense of security in knowing there are things that have to be done, and can only be done by me.
On the upside, holidays mean I get to see Rhett more often, I get to have a tidy house, I can read for enjoyment, and don't have to feel guilty for watching Dr Phil (or should I?).
I've heard the saying "you are what you read", which I tend to agree with. But what about "you are what you listen to"?
I spent a good 3 hours yesterday dissecting Ray Lamontagne's album "Trouble". The songs on this album all have a certain 'antiquity' about them. Maybe its his voice, or the recording, but whatever it is, I could (and did) listen to him for hours on end without irritation.
I say "dissected" because I was earnestly trying to learn how to play and sing them, the chords were easy enough (even for my meager guitar ability), but there was an essence that I couldn't re-create however much I started, paused, and rewound. I'm going to keep trying, merely for the sake that I love these songs and relish the thought of being able to replicate them on my own.
It got me thinking (and if you're anticipating a spiritual analogy then you're right), about the series that we are doing in Cession at the moment - The art of being ekkleisia. Meaning - what is 'being' church?
The longer I spent trying to work out the integral parts of these songs, I realized that they only work as a whole. I couldn't work it out bit by bit and have it sound like it was meant to, and even when I learnt the whole thing and played it out in my mind I was still thinking of it's many parts. It didn't spoil the song for me, if anything I grew to appreciate it as a whole. It was designed by someone who felt the emotions being poured into it, it had a pattern which was sculpted so it would portray the right meaning, and it was crafted in such a way that each little bit is so very important, yet cannot create the same ambience on its own.
Maybe this is what the church is like?