Vital signs

I want to live my life.

That sounds a bit “well, duh!” doesn’t it? By definition you do live your life. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be living.

But I want something more than just vital signs. I want to experience my life fully. To feel the wind rushing against my face. To bask in the first sunlight of spring. To know the glory of God whatever I’m doing.

And that’s the rub. Because things catch us up in their net and all of a sudden here I am thinking about the paper I need to write, the room I need to clean, the tickets I need to buy, what time do I need to leave to get to class on time, why doesn’t anyone ever reply to my e-mails, do I really have to call that person to get an answer? And I’m not living anymore. Not really.

It’s not like I don’t need to do some of those things. Papers must be written. Rooms must be cleaned (especially mine). Tickets to La Boheme will certainly make me happy. Getting to class on time would be a plus.

All the time I’m worrying about those things, I can feel part of me crying out for something more. Some beauty, some moment of sheer wonder.

Sometimes I need to stop and think and listen and be. Notice the crocuses on the walk home. Thrill to the flight of the bird by the Tube station. See the beauty hidden in the everyday acts of our lives. I don’t particularly feel the need to go climb Mount Everest or something extreme like that. But I do need to avoid getting caught up in the cares and worries of the world and forgetting about true life—the life that experiences every day and in everything the wonder and majesty and love of God.