Life of Pride
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
I am filled with the desire to type a blog post that is philosophical. Meaningful. Something that will induce many people to write me comments.
But nothing in particular springs to mind. That is, any number of things spring to mind, but none of them quite strike my fancy the right way. So this is what it is like inside my head:
Fancy, a small girl with long blond pigtails and a blue-checked dress, sits humming in a rocking chair and stares dreamily into space. All around and above her zoom varicolored thoughts, shaped like an imaginary Scarlett head from Gone With the Wind, a grocery cart, lunch, and, well, a heart (hey, I'm a girl). In between these bigger, more obvious thoughts streak small sparkles of concepts and phrases. Every once in a while, these tiny lights run into each other with squeaks and grunts and create a small explosion, from which arises one of the more formed and colorful thoughts. The first thing each of these new ideas does is swoop down and strike Fancy! Since they feel rather like big mushy pillows, usually she just waves them away in annoyance. Occasionally, however, one strikes her just the way. She seizes it in her little arms and hugs it tight.
She must have really liked that one. Hey, it was all about her. What girl can resist?
Anyway, after a while Fancy's momma, Wisdom, comes along with her broom and takes a look at the pet thoughts Fancy has captured. These ideas cluster around Fancy's knees, panting with tongues out, waiting to be scratched. Wisdom has little patience with many of them. She flings them back into the air with her broom. In some of the worst cases, she thwacks a big cushy object many times, so hard that it crumbles into its original particles and disperses. Then Wisdom cautions Fancy only to feed and care for those thoughts that she would like to have grow big and solid. Thoughts are much, much harder to dissipate when they have had time to solidify, she says.
So Fancy cares for a few thoughts until they start to grow bigger than she can handle. Also, usually, she has hidden at least one away where Wisdom couldn't find it - until it is quite large. Wisdom, when she arrives happily to lead away the more mature thoughts, is often saddened by her daughter's foolishness. She punishes Fancy by forbidding her even to look at similar thoughts when they strike her again, unless Wisdom is present.
Then Wisdom leads the mature thoughts away: some beautiful, glossy, and docile; others, fur unkempt, holding back and spitting at the end of a leash. The former she releases into the beautiful lands of Hearing, Seeing, and Speaking, where they will live peacefully, each planting and harvesting its particular crops. The latter she intends to bring to the Incinerator of Inharmony in order to dispose of them, but they are often to strong for her. The foul creatures yank away and escape into the beautiful lands with their more obedient cousins. Here, they spread filth and pull up the good crops until they can be caught and exterminated. It is doubly hard to remove them at that point, because Humility and Temperance, the sons of Wisdom, must not only oust the bad thoughts, but must also repair all the damage they have caused.
In the middle of all her work, Wisdom is glad she has a strong husband, Spirit, who helps her in all she does and instructs her. Not only does he give her strong sons such as Humility and Temperance and lovely daughters such as Grace and Patience, but he adopts Fancy, Wisdom's daughter by a former, abusive husband (now dead, thank goodness!) and trains her up as his own. The more faithful children Wisdom has, the fewer evil thoughts can escape.
---
Goodness! I got a little carried away! Well, yes, I guess that is exactly what it is like in my head, then. My imagination is always buzzing over stories.
But nothing in particular springs to mind. That is, any number of things spring to mind, but none of them quite strike my fancy the right way. So this is what it is like inside my head:
Fancy, a small girl with long blond pigtails and a blue-checked dress, sits humming in a rocking chair and stares dreamily into space. All around and above her zoom varicolored thoughts, shaped like an imaginary Scarlett head from Gone With the Wind, a grocery cart, lunch, and, well, a heart (hey, I'm a girl). In between these bigger, more obvious thoughts streak small sparkles of concepts and phrases. Every once in a while, these tiny lights run into each other with squeaks and grunts and create a small explosion, from which arises one of the more formed and colorful thoughts. The first thing each of these new ideas does is swoop down and strike Fancy! Since they feel rather like big mushy pillows, usually she just waves them away in annoyance. Occasionally, however, one strikes her just the way. She seizes it in her little arms and hugs it tight.
She must have really liked that one. Hey, it was all about her. What girl can resist?
Anyway, after a while Fancy's momma, Wisdom, comes along with her broom and takes a look at the pet thoughts Fancy has captured. These ideas cluster around Fancy's knees, panting with tongues out, waiting to be scratched. Wisdom has little patience with many of them. She flings them back into the air with her broom. In some of the worst cases, she thwacks a big cushy object many times, so hard that it crumbles into its original particles and disperses. Then Wisdom cautions Fancy only to feed and care for those thoughts that she would like to have grow big and solid. Thoughts are much, much harder to dissipate when they have had time to solidify, she says.
So Fancy cares for a few thoughts until they start to grow bigger than she can handle. Also, usually, she has hidden at least one away where Wisdom couldn't find it - until it is quite large. Wisdom, when she arrives happily to lead away the more mature thoughts, is often saddened by her daughter's foolishness. She punishes Fancy by forbidding her even to look at similar thoughts when they strike her again, unless Wisdom is present.
Then Wisdom leads the mature thoughts away: some beautiful, glossy, and docile; others, fur unkempt, holding back and spitting at the end of a leash. The former she releases into the beautiful lands of Hearing, Seeing, and Speaking, where they will live peacefully, each planting and harvesting its particular crops. The latter she intends to bring to the Incinerator of Inharmony in order to dispose of them, but they are often to strong for her. The foul creatures yank away and escape into the beautiful lands with their more obedient cousins. Here, they spread filth and pull up the good crops until they can be caught and exterminated. It is doubly hard to remove them at that point, because Humility and Temperance, the sons of Wisdom, must not only oust the bad thoughts, but must also repair all the damage they have caused.
In the middle of all her work, Wisdom is glad she has a strong husband, Spirit, who helps her in all she does and instructs her. Not only does he give her strong sons such as Humility and Temperance and lovely daughters such as Grace and Patience, but he adopts Fancy, Wisdom's daughter by a former, abusive husband (now dead, thank goodness!) and trains her up as his own. The more faithful children Wisdom has, the fewer evil thoughts can escape.
---
Goodness! I got a little carried away! Well, yes, I guess that is exactly what it is like in my head, then. My imagination is always buzzing over stories.
Comments:
I love your imagination :). There is just no one else who writes quite like you.
You could turn this into a children's story. It needs some work, but this is a very promising beginning. The way you described it, I could almost see potential illustrations, and a delightful story growing out of it. Too bad I am not an illustrator :(.
You could turn this into a children's story. It needs some work, but this is a very promising beginning. The way you described it, I could almost see potential illustrations, and a delightful story growing out of it. Too bad I am not an illustrator :(.
Hey Wes, I think you misunderstand some things. :) First, when we are saved, our old spirit is replaced by God's Holy Spirit. Our old, carnal spirit is enslaved by the things of the world and wants to sin; or new Spirit wants to be holy. Also before we are saved, all our faculties are blinded and don't function so well, if at all. So Wisdom before salvation was shackled to a carnal spirit. :D
Marriage is a combination that together mirrors Christ. So the basic personality of "me" is Wisdom and the Holy Spirit. However, I still have fallen habits remaining, which weaken Wisdom from fully complying with the Holy Spirit. "She" gets stronger and stronger, but she will never be perfectly strong in this lifetime.
Believe me, Patience is female. ;) We women are often waiting for guys to do something, because we don't have any choice but to wait. And Temperance is male, because guys are the strong ones who would have the ability most of all to harm others with excess.
So you see, there are a lot of complicated theological ideas wrapped up in that 20-minute blog post. :P
As for Fancy being adopted, I'm thinking of Fancy as just that part of me that actively moves to decide what to think about. The little conoisseur in my head, who is advised and punished by the rest. :) Under her former father, she was allowed to run wild. Now Wisdom and Spirit are trying to rein her in.
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Marriage is a combination that together mirrors Christ. So the basic personality of "me" is Wisdom and the Holy Spirit. However, I still have fallen habits remaining, which weaken Wisdom from fully complying with the Holy Spirit. "She" gets stronger and stronger, but she will never be perfectly strong in this lifetime.
Believe me, Patience is female. ;) We women are often waiting for guys to do something, because we don't have any choice but to wait. And Temperance is male, because guys are the strong ones who would have the ability most of all to harm others with excess.
So you see, there are a lot of complicated theological ideas wrapped up in that 20-minute blog post. :P
As for Fancy being adopted, I'm thinking of Fancy as just that part of me that actively moves to decide what to think about. The little conoisseur in my head, who is advised and punished by the rest. :) Under her former father, she was allowed to run wild. Now Wisdom and Spirit are trying to rein her in.
