Resolution (and the lack thereof.) Dammit.

Funny how life works. Earlier this week, my energy level was on EMPTY.

Today, I am filled, bubbling over, with surplus kinetic juices.  Ideas are popping and bouncing  around in my skull like dice in the  Trouble Pop-O-Matic bubble.

When I picked up Donald Miller’s latest book, I read this little excerpt from his earlier one: “I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn’t resolve. . . . I used to not like God because God didn’t resolve.”

I think part of my doldrums lately has been that I couldn’t get the future to resolve. I couldn’t get it to settle down into a nice, neat little map.  What has become clearer to me lately is that if the future is a map at all (which it probably isn’t), it’s like the Marauder’s Map from Harry Potter.  It’s always moving, filled with the footsteps of all the people that represent opportunity and danger, and at best a sketch of possibilities as opposed to a fixed set of routes like the red and blue lines in your AAA Road Atlas.

When I stopped expecting the future to resolve, to become rigid and fixed, I was able to notice some of those moving dots. And some of them are fantastically rich with possibility.  So instead of expecting the fireflies to settle down and fly in formation in the shape of a single glowing arrow, I’m going to start pursuing a few of them to see where they take me.

"hamlet word cloud" for those who aren't familiar with the term. The bigger the word is, the more frequently it appears.

A last thought for the day, as my lunch time is nearly up (and my evening writing time is currently devoted to NaNoWriMo).  I really need to get better control of my tongue. I’m pretty sure if you make a “tag cloud” from the words that came out of my mouth the last week, there would be a giant, sanserif  “DAMMIT” right in the middle.

I know there’s a time for exclamation without consideration of propriety, but when an expletive dominates your personal verbal tag cloud for a week, it’s time to rein it in a little and exercise some self-control, dammit.

See? There I go again.