this is the season of silence

These are the days of falling words, of silence, of void.
This is the season of reflection, of serene confusion, of quiet loneliness.
These are the hours for strains of music, for poetry, for a hot mocha and a Georgian sunset.
These are the times I find myself with little I want to say and nothing I want to be.
These are the moments of sorrow and of peace and of joy all mixed together in beautiful oneness.

***

I am finding a simple beauty in just being.  As I shed the cynicism of too much education and learn to see life through a clearer and simpler lens, I wonder how to reconcile myself to graduate school: that time I loved, that time of stretching, that time of becoming and of growth.  Because if it wasn't all good, it wasn't all bad either.

It is as if in attaining an education I found and lost myself all at the same time.  And now, as I sift through the wreckage of the colliding persons I could or should be, I find myself wondering where this is all headed.

As I learn to choose love over anger, patience over indignation, peace over violence, God over self, wisdom over knowledge, I wonder what to do with the mind I gained.  How to serve God in this world.  How to find God in the first place.

***

The internet is full of anger.  Fear.  Cynicism.  Righteous indignation.  Right people.  Wrong people.  A multiplicity of grays.  There was a time when I wanted to be a part of that community.

And now I don't.

Now I want to create.  I want to dance and to sing and to write newness and life into my world.  I want to be part of the solution, not a teller of doom.

***

These are the days of words both old and new, words that speak hope and life and peace.

This is the season for playing a part in God's story of redemption.

The time is now.