Cages

A couple of things are rolling around in my head.  One has to do with joy.  What is it?  I've read the definition, but it seems inadequate.  Maybe I've just not experienced it.  I know peace (which is an inner quiet).  I know happiness (which is dependent on circumstances).  But I can't say I've ever known an abiding gladness...Perhaps I have, there was a time I think I had it.  Things weren't perfect, but I just seemed to be glad, positive, most of the time.

Though, it seems this had much to do with the circumstances, which would pull it into the realm of happiness, right?  I distinctly remember frustrations and difficulties then, so I know this isn't a rosy memory (though I don't have those anyway).  Truly, I tend to see always the bad, so to remember a time of happiness that was longer than fleeting is something.

Just recently, I have felt a deep need for joy.  I even almost felt it yesterday, but it escaped me before I could fully feel it.  It was like a shadow of it, or a snatch of music heard indistinctly.  And then it was gone.

This transitions nicely into the other thing in my head...I'd wondered how they would relate.  I have blogged previously about my naturally darker nature.  I have to accept it.  I have tried to change it, ignore it, etc.  But it is part of me, and this is not necessarily a defect.

So what stands in my way?  I think it has to do with cages, fetters.  I despise them.  I hate being tied down or restricted.  Not all restrictions; some are necessary, I know that.  But the unnecessary tangles of life, those I hate.  Mortgages, bills, tenuous family obligations.  These are drudgery and torture.  Give me one day when I am stuck at home with nothing to do and unable to leave because of something like, my son is out playing and too young to leave alone...and I'm prowling the floors like a tiger, looking for anything to occupy the restlessness.  Read, watch pointless TV; this only goes so far.  Sleep; that too only covers so much.  This is why I make so many things with my hands...anything to occupy my mind when I can't go and do. 

My wife seems to like those times.  Relaxing, she calls it.  It's torture.  I want to rip the walls down.  Sometimes I'll go outside, but I'm surrounded by acres and acres of more little cages with small caged streets and bigger caged streets and fences, all hemming me into this world of cushy padded nothing.

Granted, it is good to be safe and secure.  This is a blessing I would not withhold from anyone.  I think what is missing in it is meaning.  Real depth.  Challenge.  I am so in love with adventure stories, books, movies.  I want to be swept away on some quest or mission.  I want every moment to feel vibrant and real.  Then when I return home, I'll want to be here.  To rest and enjoy the peace.  But eventually to go back out into the world again.

I do not pretend to have missed my calling.  I am what I should be, or on the journey toward it.  But at times like these, especially around holidays when I am sitting around endlessly, it gets to me.  I want my family to join me.  But they are not that type.  I can't make my wife into what she is not.  My son will join some, but is also content to sit and putter.

I work my life to be as free as possible, but everywhere, people throw fetters on.  We're not good citizens if we aren't chained down a hundred ways.  And so I sit, and prowl, and make something, and prowl.  I may even get fed up and disappear for a short time, but the chains of responsibility will pull me back again.

I will step out on the road and wish for something to happen that breaks the chains.

Actually...I think I've just hit something else.  My anxiety from being around other people comes precisely because I am so looking for this kind of life.  I feel like the Ranger sitting cloaked in the corner, ever watchful, ever ready to strike, to move, to go.  But outside is nothing but padded walls and fat docile pets.  With expectation of something more and no where to direct it, everywhere becomes a source of irritation, anxiety.  It's like the tiger who attacks the one who feeds it, or an innocent bystander.  I just want out of the cage.

Idleness

I once read that in medeival times, boredom was considered a sin. Sounds harsh, but the explanation is sound. Actually, it wasn't called boredom. It was called ennui, and was married to sloth. Sloth, is idleness.



Of course, this needs to be qualified. Simple daydreaming is not boredom in the chronic sense. The ennui type of boredom is a prolonged detatchment and emotional flatness. This leads to and come from idleness in a self-defeating cycle. When one is always bored, it is hard to accomplish things, which makes us less engaged and more bored, and so forth into depression. So in this sense, idleness certainly is a sin.



Now I am far from judging by stating that idleness is sin. Sin is the Christian word for things against God's plan...against the natural order, as it were. And we have all sinned, done things that are not according to the good and true purposes. Therefore, I am not judging by saying this. I'm simply calling a spade a spade.



For modern people, I think boredom is prevalent because for most of us in the developed world, daily survival is not an issue. For those who live in that mode, this is not even a pertinent topic. Anyone in that kind of lack has a right to a better life and some leisure. But for those of us who are already blessed with this lifestyle, we must be on our guard. It is very easy to slip into idleness or self-absorption.

I'm not going to try to define what is acceptable; it is a personal decision that each of us must engage and do as we are led. But I will comment about myself. I am particularly vulnerable to boredom and idleness. I have learned this. When I get bogged down in the mundane, everyday go to work, come home, go to sleep, do it again world, I quickly slide down that hill toward the pit. I learned it way back in high school when I developed certain conditions. After months of trying to figure it out and consulting doctors, I discovered that simply forcing myself out of the every day and into something I could engage solved the problem. For me, getting a job was not a detriment to my schooling, but a saving grace. I recently had a resurgence of symptoms that once again sent me to doctor after doctor and, after running every pertinent test, all coming back perfectly normal, I am convinced that it is the same problem. Though I am not in the rut of high school any more, I am in a very similar rut. Work, home, chores, family, sleep, ad nauseum. To make matters worse, I am now much more sedentary at work (much like in high school).

So, I am addressing it. I am learning to keep busy. To use my hands. I am engaging myself even when I don't feel like getting up. And I know that I need to get more wildness, more adventure. I am not the type to be content in such mundane surroundings. I need to venture out and challenge myself. That's why even a walk in the blazing heat is healing for me. Anytime I can force myself out of that ennui by having to deal with other unavoidable concerns, I feel better. Idle hands truly are the devils' play thing.

Of course, everything in balance. I know people who have similar issues and spend so much time running from their demons that they can't tell which end is up. And as is true with all demons, they will capitalize on any means to ruin us. If that means switching from boredom to hyper-activity, the hellish goads will never cease. If we are truly in the service of our King, and He affords us a period of rest and leisure, it is no sin to avail ourselves of it. He knows more than anyone else how we will be all the more ready to respond to our next task if our lives are in balance.