Struggle and Grace

There are many things, many experiences in life that we find ourselves somehow in tune, in harmony with our perfect surroundings. As someone who has a predisposition of a visual and tactile nature, I’ve come to realize that there are a handful of things, which I have intentionally searched out to find; things that bring me to a place of harmony where I find myself completely and wholly grateful to be alive. These events, no matter how consuming, I find myself thanking God for my being and for the manner in which I was created. For now, in reverence of Him and this experience, I will write of only one. However, it is certain that others, no matter what resistance may come at my behalf, will find their way into my ramblings.

After a long chat with a couple in their mid 50’s, while having dinner at the bar of a local eatery, I’ve conceded to the idea that I could be defined as a “purist”. And it is with great apprehension that I write this, immortalizing my admittance to be bracketed by a term. I would imagine that my closest of friends, having read this, might find themselves saying, “Of course you are CJ!” And now, as I write this, having never put my thoughts on paper until this year, I find all too many things that come to mind, flooding me with support of what my friends and family have probably known all along. So, in my juvenile attempt to write with brevity, I will do my best to weed out those thoughts and save them for later, with the understanding that some meanderings will leak through my hand, into the pen and onto the paper as the previous paragraph has managed to do. Regroup.

The thing with solitude is that it “giveth and taketh”. In solitude, one finds oneself face to face with the things one has for so long, knowingly and unknowingly, ignored. This is the taketh. Admittingly naïve to the depths of spirituality of Eastern culture and some “native” western, a southern Christian boy whose addiction is fly fishing, could find parallels between their appreciation for struggle and meditation; for the emersion of oneself in nature and it’s purity. However, fully aware of the major differences between my faith and theirs, I think we would both agree that it becomes harder and harder to find the places we think we should be, having to weed through the ever expanding progress of our commercial worlds. Oh how I quickly tire of the invading condos and gas stations of my trout streams and mountainsides. But I guess every generation and culture has their own “condos and gas stations”. So I take what I can get and the artist in me certainly appreciates the fuel for his Fire.

The giveth. And oh what a giveth it is; to overcome the previous avoidances and find gratitude. A great contemporary mind has said that on every level gratitude results in happiness. Yes, happiness. A term many are so quickly to equate and chock up to Hallmark cards and sunshine. But really, what other word is so reliably qualified?

And now, on a Friday night, surrounded by a plethora of candles and a collection of beautiful flora, under the canopy of a fire-lit umbrella, absorbing the intoxicating combination of a symphony of crickets and southern locusts and the latest David Gray CD, I sip on a glass of slightly chilled Pinot Noir on the back porch of my “condo”…it has giveth and I am having MY moment. Gratitude. I have found my place for the year…at least until the next. And if you’re not a visual learner…let me tell you directly, it is wonderfully fine.