A Short Introduction
I remember being little and having all these dreams. Staring up at the bright moon and knowing somewhere deep in my heart that they were bound to come true. I would imagine worlds, lands far away and surely they would be just as magical and wonderful as they were in the stories. I was sure that no one would write stories about talking fauns, dancing dryads, and kings and queens in magical lands if they were not based upon some truth, a shared magic with the world we know. I was sure that one day I would find Narnia in my closet, Gandalf on my front door, and perhaps even a sand fairy in my garden. Imagination is a good thing. It helps us to escape, to remember that in the end, we are not alone, that this is not in essence, our final resting place. But it is a tool, one that if leant upon too heavily, can do more damage than good.
C. S. Lewis once wrote that “we do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words — to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” This can only describe what I so strongly felt as a child, but failed to put to words. A pulsing feeling that invaded every part of me, an indescribable, invasive ache that once had could not be re-imagined or materialized by any thought or physical force. Simply gazing at a sunrise, the lyrics of song, a painting in a museum would and continues to fill me with such yearning and "longing. . . to find the place where all the beauty [comes] from" (C. S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces).
When do we stop believing? When do we decide that having adventures, laughing out loud, and using our imaginations is not the proper way of things? Why should we not marvel like a child upon the first blossoms of spring, smile and try to befriend the house sparrow, laugh and run through the grass barefoot, and blissfully dance after the cloud of butterflies? Why must we replace this wonderment with the stern, serious facade of “adult” expectations and behaviors? When did we stop marveling in the beauty that has been given and passing up joy for pleasure because it easily obtained and joy is not.
I am constantly tempted to compare the then with the now. I tend to consider myself worse for wear, a better child than an adult - lost at sea and the next wave breaking over my head. I've been at war with multiple and conflicting emotions and a mood that fluctuates as the moon controls the tide, unpredictable and inevitable. I have lived a whirlwind of hopes and fears, fierce longings and painful yearnings, complicated indecision and frantic grasping, dedicated to not let go, to find that magic, that unattainable joy.
It has taken me until now and is still an ongoing journey to realise the attainability of this so coveted joy. I wish to live my life not looking back at what was and what is, nor running forward to catch what might be, but walking now, hand in hand with He that knows me best. I wish to enjoy the beauty around with the eyes of a dreamer that have been given to me, to embrace life with a joyous ferocity. For by walking with the Lord I will come to know and to understand these deeper truths that every soul longs for, to replace our feeble stabs at pleasure and happiness and at understanding the beauty that surrounds us. For "joy cannot unfold the deepest truths, although the deepest truths must be deepest joy" (George MacDonald, Phantases).
Right, so if you have made it this far, what does all this have to do with everything? My desire in launching my blog is to provide a space for people to enjoy the beauty around us. I wish to spend each day, reveling in the glorious life that has been given to me, to fully appreciate the beauty in the simple moments. Joy is not something that can be bought or sold, it is as fleeting and elusive as the wind and yet the most coveted and longed for, and most often to be substituted with easily attained pleasure. As I venture into the next chapter of my adventure, I wish to have a space to rattle on, to vent, and to marvel at the everyday.
I am not sure who will read this, maybe none, but I hope a few might find there way to my own cozy corner of the internet. I hope you will pull up a chair, curl up in the softest blanket, with a hot beverage of your choice (tea is my preferred) and take a moment to dream with me. Let us escape into the beauty of the simple, not always perfect moments, to reach for that Joy that can only be found by looking up, and to dance about the pages of our very own adventure story.
C. S. Lewis once wrote that “we do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words — to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” This can only describe what I so strongly felt as a child, but failed to put to words. A pulsing feeling that invaded every part of me, an indescribable, invasive ache that once had could not be re-imagined or materialized by any thought or physical force. Simply gazing at a sunrise, the lyrics of song, a painting in a museum would and continues to fill me with such yearning and "longing. . . to find the place where all the beauty [comes] from" (C. S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces).
When do we stop believing? When do we decide that having adventures, laughing out loud, and using our imaginations is not the proper way of things? Why should we not marvel like a child upon the first blossoms of spring, smile and try to befriend the house sparrow, laugh and run through the grass barefoot, and blissfully dance after the cloud of butterflies? Why must we replace this wonderment with the stern, serious facade of “adult” expectations and behaviors? When did we stop marveling in the beauty that has been given and passing up joy for pleasure because it easily obtained and joy is not.
I am constantly tempted to compare the then with the now. I tend to consider myself worse for wear, a better child than an adult - lost at sea and the next wave breaking over my head. I've been at war with multiple and conflicting emotions and a mood that fluctuates as the moon controls the tide, unpredictable and inevitable. I have lived a whirlwind of hopes and fears, fierce longings and painful yearnings, complicated indecision and frantic grasping, dedicated to not let go, to find that magic, that unattainable joy.
It has taken me until now and is still an ongoing journey to realise the attainability of this so coveted joy. I wish to live my life not looking back at what was and what is, nor running forward to catch what might be, but walking now, hand in hand with He that knows me best. I wish to enjoy the beauty around with the eyes of a dreamer that have been given to me, to embrace life with a joyous ferocity. For by walking with the Lord I will come to know and to understand these deeper truths that every soul longs for, to replace our feeble stabs at pleasure and happiness and at understanding the beauty that surrounds us. For "joy cannot unfold the deepest truths, although the deepest truths must be deepest joy" (George MacDonald, Phantases).
Right, so if you have made it this far, what does all this have to do with everything? My desire in launching my blog is to provide a space for people to enjoy the beauty around us. I wish to spend each day, reveling in the glorious life that has been given to me, to fully appreciate the beauty in the simple moments. Joy is not something that can be bought or sold, it is as fleeting and elusive as the wind and yet the most coveted and longed for, and most often to be substituted with easily attained pleasure. As I venture into the next chapter of my adventure, I wish to have a space to rattle on, to vent, and to marvel at the everyday.
I am not sure who will read this, maybe none, but I hope a few might find there way to my own cozy corner of the internet. I hope you will pull up a chair, curl up in the softest blanket, with a hot beverage of your choice (tea is my preferred) and take a moment to dream with me. Let us escape into the beauty of the simple, not always perfect moments, to reach for that Joy that can only be found by looking up, and to dance about the pages of our very own adventure story.
“All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”
C. S. Lewis,
The Last Battle
Welcome to Wellies and Tea…..
Comments
Post a Comment