|Photo credit to Amy White|
When my laptop crashed last week, I lost my blogging rhythm. Most of my photos were on there (although backed up) that I wanted to use for posting. Several days have passed since then with only one or two posts. As I was thinking about what to blog, the word "dissonance" kept coming to my mind.
In " The Divine Embrace" by Ken Gire, a whole chapter is devoted to this process.
" Whenever there is dissonance in music or in drama or in dancing, it is because certain rhythms need to be broken in order for new rhythms to be established...Dissonance is about transition."
I like routine and the security in setting goals and accomplishing them. My to-do list for summer got pushed back to fall because of a physical problem. As I tackled that list on Monday,I was feeling on top of the world. I shampooed my rug and gave my kitchen a touch-up paint.
Then Tuesday came and it all began to unravel. Wednesday I gave up and sat outside in the sun, writing in my journal and being quiet. The end of the week was a mad rush helping Mom at the Trash & Treasure show.
Today I awoke to the hum of a fresh morning filled with sunshine.
With my journal and Bible, I sank into my favorite spot and began to read in the Psalms. After praying over my family and a quick shower,I cleaned the house, tended my flowers and hummed a song of worship over their fading beauty. I even took a rag to a couple of dirty windows. Nothing hurried, no forcing myself to accomplish each task in order to reach the next. Simple movement. Breathing in the air of transition from summer to fall.
The world is in transition. The church is in transition. Sometimes that looks like chaos and strife and struggle. It seems difficult to strike a balance between the old and the new.
"I wanted to go new places on the dance floor but keep the old rhythms, the rhythms I knew, the rhythms I felt comfortable with, the rhythms I could dance to." Ken Gire
Unfamiliar spiritual strains ripple within me.My comfort zone shifts ever so slightly. A smile plays upon my lips. Rhythms, old and new, create a holy tension, vying for position.
I stifle the urge to look up the definition of dissonance for this post, letting it remain vague, even ethereal. Intentionally I move away from boxes, lists, and purpose for this moment and stand in the stillness of the breaking rhythm. Listening, waiting for the gentle pressure of the Spirit's hand, nudging me forward.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad