Turning makes the world go round

I have issues with simplicity. There are always so many things I want to do and think about in this tortuous world, and sometimes I get flustered or agitated or exhausted because of this.

I get especially bothered when it comes to communication, because regardless of how much time I spend writing emails or wall posts there are always so many more people whom I care about but whom I cannot correspond with right now because there are articles to read or meals to cook or sleep to be had or desks to tidy or distractions to indulge in. And there are always so many more people whom I care about but who slip my mind in the fray. When I do remember them, I feel even worse.

All of which is really silly because I know that I never need to do more than I can. I also know that the only way to really know what I should be doing is to pray -- or at least to slow down enough to make choices with both my scarce resources and my infinite God in mind, rather than barreling on to the next in the jumble of things that just has to be done immediately.

But there is this really idiotic, overanalytic part of me that likes complications. It arrogates to equality with the genuine thought that I attempt to harness during complex classes and conversations, but really it's pathetic.

It's funny: discipline is a simple thing, but simplicity is so difficult. Like calculus, it's one of those elegant habits that I tend to forget after long breaks away from routine.

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Events log

Sunday morning: Sung eucharist at St. Paul's. Cathedral and singing and sermon were all stunning. Like God's implausible grace, it was free.