Something about this prayer thing seems to be working. Don’t know what it is, and normally hate the formality, but since yesterday my life has been amazing. Apart from a drug and alcohol fuelled woman relentlessly barraging our door at four o’clock in the morning, convinced it was another property. But these are minor details.
Was in chameleon mode at work, effortlessly and deceptively switching between multiple roles, to the extent that I’m now very confused as to my true purpose. At home, I revelled in the glorious ness of hair washing. I waited long for that moment.
After listening to Jess Glynne, embarked on a huge Hillsong United worship journey. Thinking about how sometimes Jesus speaks really dramatically, and other times whimsically, but whatever he says is never trivial. It was in Isaiah 55, “The word that goes out from my mouth will not return void.”
Integrated a period of fervent prayer into my morning exercise. It’s rarely I do this officially, but I was in dire straights. Adopted Jeremiah’s plea: “Lord, lift me from the pit.” Was calling down blessing on every aspect of my day of work that entered my brain, metaphorically on my knees, but physically in the classic tree-hugging pose.
Something happened anyway, as it’s the first Saturday I’ve ever worked without sustaining some level of stress trauma. Three people in the kitchen is the key; in all situations this is the magic number, apart from perhaps marriage, and thumb wars. Almost got ahead of myself by having two coffees on my break, but the latent fear of uncontrollable urination kept me in check.
I was therefore delighted to fill my evening with stressful recreation, such as the deceptively simple task of transferring audio files from CD to iPod. After three hours of whirring, and erasing and replacing my entire library, I met with success. Eventually surrendered and listened to Amanda Cook for an hour in worshipful bliss. My first day I’m a while where over fifty percent of stuff has worked out above average.
Had a short-lived early morning crisis, as I thought I didn’t have enough time for Chi Kung. Then realised that is woken up an hour too early. My energies remain balanced. The three-day work run began today; a fitting warmup for the brutality to follow on Saturday and Sunday. Not crawling up the walls yet, but we’ll get there.
My anointing was strong, as caught the perfect bus two seconds after leaving. Headed to the Williams’ for legendary pizza, an occasion where gluttony is not only accepted, but actively encouraged. Got off the bus early to enjoy the last bit of the leafy walk, an unprecedented move in our time-obsessed culture. Stories of fatal experiences and a high average of calories were par for the course. Highly aware of the fact I was wearing my blandest t-shirt, as I hadn’t had time to change. A shame everyone didn’t get to experience the real me. Will try and wear a particularly politically incorrect one next time.
Definitely ranking up there in my top fifty most unproductive days of all time. Notable achievements are cooking a stir fry that successfully used up excess broccoli, only for the heartbreaking discovery afterwards that there were, indeed, spring onions in the fridge. My quality of life missed out on a while percent.
Did manage to send off some important things, including a letter to the council to take back money that is rightfully ours, but without the need for green leggings and a bow. Played a MIDI keyboard for the first time in a music-playing session: I hate the phrase, “jam.” Found myself in a mini glory shower on the train back, but then realised I was tired. Classic corner has become an essential evening item. I assess how much damage the world has inflicted on me, and vice versa, while listening to wordless music that can’t judge me, or force me to feel a particular emotion.
I thought I’d amassed enough internal energy over the past few days to rival a small, nuclear power station. How misinformed I was, having been reduced to a shivering wreck by a irrational lunch rush at work. I cannot understand why such a large number of people decided to eat at such an unconventional time. But my life is full of constant surprises, with no follow-up explanation.
Massive revelations about church and Jesus’ love tonight, in the form of relentless mental rants, unbeknownst to my companions. Ok, I really understand why being in community is important, but how many carrot cakes do we need to eat before we decide to be friends? I feel sorry for people with lower metabolisms than me.
Also, we’re always approaching God’s love like it’s something to be attained. People, it is inside you, waiting to be comprehended. When you can’t sense it, that feeling is not enough to evaporate it’s reality. Listening to Dvorak’s Cello Concerto, connecting with those lovely, unspeakable emotions.
Enjoyed observing the aesthetic on the walk to work. The placement of every tree, underpass, building and pavement is very fascinating. There is a strange comfort in the predictability that when I turn a corner, the same journey lies ahead as the day before.
Work was surprisingly manageable, with only a sustainable level of kitchen madness reached. Although my meditative, outdoor break time was defiled by a guy from the café next door talking to me. The walk back was like a mystical, ritual cleansing. When it’s raining heavily, it’s really fulfilling to get drenched when it doesn’t matter. These are the extremes I live; sweat in front of a grill, drown in a deluge.
Really appreciated Chi King this morning. Focused less on the timings and more on being; felt much more beneficial. The legacy of coronation chicken was carried into today’s sandwiches, and shall certainly endure for several more days, leading to a double intake of raisins. Also resentfully assumed the responsibility of bailiff for my personal finances. I hope one day I will have a clear idea of my cash flow.
Work was refreshingly quite today. The kitchen playlist dabbled in Thelonious Monk, before submitting to the inevitable Michael Jackson. My bladder mastered the hidden art of needing to be emptied just before a rush of orders came in. Completely unintentional, but great for a little selfish respite from not very much stress.
I had low-level, irrational anxiety about my hair’s cleanliness, so had to wash it, breaking my weekly cycle. Sorry Mother Earth for needlessly releasing chemicals into your belly. Then the evening took an episodic turn, with a music rehearsal that was uncannily similar to the last one.
I wouldn’t normally opt to spend a day inside when it’s sunny, but normal rules and restraints go out of the window where ninjas are involved. Went to the cinema to watch the Ninjago movie; the Lord was speaking. All the Lego films somehow manage to be ridiculous and poignant simultaneously. After a brief lunch break, I watched Loving Vincent, an animated film made up entirely of paintings. One of the most extraordinary films I’ve ever watched.
Cleaned afterwards, feeling slightly weird. Think was a combo of the exhilarating Van Gogh visuals, and a lack of lunchtime caffeine. Great conditions to deliver a talk to the students on helping poor and vulnerable people, then. My love for coronation chicken has undone me. I feel like I’m going to give birth, but in which direction, I’m not sure.