Contentment

Among the other projects I am musing over and working on, the spark of a new one has sprung. There is no surprise that much of art blossoms from that which is passionate. Strong emotion lends itself to verse and symbol. It is easy for me to put pen to blank page when I am bubbling with inner angst, or seething with a rage demanding a cipher, or even when my heart is fluttering with new love. But, what of a passionate contentment? What of an unbridled peace? What of exuberant tranquility of spirit? Has this ground been covered?

My mind swings to Walden. Others may have trod this ground before I guess. I’m not sure.

Today I feel unshakable. There is nothing driving me. Nothing is exceedingly wrong. Nothing is exceedingly right. In truth I am getting over a lingering cold, and am physically sapped. My family is together plodding through the rough and tough fist months of our third son. We are also musing and sighing at his coos and gurgles. Work is on a tight deadline, and I come home drained. School is a persistent yet fruitful exercise in diligence and good scheduling. Forays into Spiritual Direction have had me anxious. But I am unshakable.

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine! I am the branch attached to the vine. I am vineyard producing good fruit. It just isn’t harvest season, and I am good with that. The verdant young shoots are evident. Everything is promise. I am not just good. I am exceedingly, passionately, exuberantly content.

It isn’t an absence of sin or temptation. It’s just recognition of journey, and refusal to take my eyes off of the truth. A master is at work and its good to be the clay.