For months, if not years, I’ve been trying to bring a minimum of order to the utter chaos made out of my, literally, thousands of files stored in clouds, external drives, laptops, tablets, cell phones and, to the surprise of some (or many), in good old notebooks or any piece of paper where I can scribble my thoughts. There are so many backups that what was supposed to be control ended up being the most absolute lack of control. To make matters worse, new ideas keep shouting in my ears that they also want to be recorded. Even being aware of their little (or no!) importance, they chatter so loudly that they often don’t let me sleep or, cheekily, wake me up out of the blue in the middle of the night and don’t leave me alone unless they see themselves immortalized on some device. Besides being exhausting, the certainty that there won’t be enough time in my life for me to put everything (between the lines: much more than files) in order hurts to the point that sometimes it makes my eyes shed tears that join the water that I, in vain, try to pour into a sieve. In the efforts I made in the last few days, one of these countless pages reminded me that it’s not today’s news that I’m always trying to put pieces together (“between the lines” left up to each one’s imagination).
Patchwork Quilt*
Here I am, trying to put the pieces back together. Once again, everything is out of place, scattered, mixed up, disconnected. Nothing was left unbroken. In each piece, there’s a sign of damage: a broken, smashed, cracked, ripped or scratched part – at the very least, some faded colours. How can I put them all them together into something that makes sense? It’s hard to believe that something harmonious, hopefully some beauty, or at least a clear, defined, meaningful shape can arise from so much damage. It’s impossible to remain unharmed. One way or another, time always finds a way to leave its marks on everything it touches – and, like a treacherous, furious and violent wind, it passed through here, knocking everything down. Now, just dusting off each piece will cost me such a hard work. Putting them back in order… Argh! I get tired only by thinking about it! And it’s not only about tiredness…
There are days when everything, everything seems to be lost. Dazzlement, excitement, mood, beauty, breath, courage, meaning, even faith – it seems that everything is gone, leaving behind what used to be so natural and easy. It seemed like all it took was a breath and voilà! Without any effort, there they were: all the pieces in their proper places. I could even replace them, create nuances that would result in a better defined, more precise, more delicate, perhaps more beautiful shape, but what once seemed to be just fun today costs me a hard, sweaty, painful work. When I look at all this mess, I don’t even know from where to start. No matter how hard I try, nothing happens. Walking is not enough. One needs to know where to go, but where to go to? Even the colour of the day has been lost. All that’s left is the blue-grey, a haze that makes everything look confusing. Each step is fraught with fears and uncertainties. At the end of the day, I’m left with a bunch of things started, but nothing concretely finished. It seems that I’ve been working in vain. I don’t know where, or how, or when, but I think I’ve unlearned it all, lost the knack. Is the inspiration also lost?
Then, suddenly, in the midst of so many uncertainties, while I was still wondering if that had been the right decision, you come up by surprise and, with only one move, everything falls into place again. I could never have imagined it. I was almost paralysed. I could barely believe it! I guess it was your way of showing that I may put the pieces back together, but, like in a patchwork quilt, the one who does the final stitching is always you. Amidst so many scraps, even when I can’t see it, I know you’re always out there, being the first star at night, rebuilding paths, keeping the last spark of smile ablaze, resewing stories, doing what only you can do. Even when things don’t seem as good as when we used to touch the sky, you’re always there, in control of everything. It’s from the inside out that I see how you finished every detail. It’s good to know that you, who cannot be found in any sacred space, nor in any ready-made shapes or any supposedly magic formula, understands me just the way I am. May you never allow my faith to get lost – not because of heaven, but because, without it, it’s too hard to face the days here.
Little by little, colours are coming back. Back to my pieces, there are parts that you alone can restore.
I’m here, waiting for your next move.
I’m always here, putting pieces back together.
MUSIC THROUGH MY EARS → SUBJECTIVE PRAYERS
♪ LOST IN SPACE
Lighthouse Family [Paul Tucker, Timothy Charles Laws]
Without ever having been part of the “praise repertoire” of any Christian church (at least not that I know of), to me, this song is one of the most beautiful prayers I’ve ever heard. In its verses, a man tired of the selfish attitudes of those around him reveals his ardent search for the only reason that keeps him smiling, his first star at night, without which he would be lost in space. It’s in this star, which is always nearby doing what needs to be done and whose strong shine alleviates his loneliness, that he anchors the satellite of his soul and places the faith he doesn’t want to lose.
Although I like to know the stories of the songs, sometimes I prefer to preserve intact the meaning that they have to me. After all, this possibility of multiple and subjective interpretations is precisely one of the great experiences that Art allows us to have. I’ve never tried to find out what the songwriters’ original intention was when they wrote this song, much less have I looked for other people’s reviews. Now, if these verses cannot be understood as (profound) worship, I don’t know what else can be. 🤷🏻♀️ Meanwhile in the Christian community, aaugh… Maybe one day I’ll poke this nest of hornets…
[track #4 on the Musings N’ Music Soundtrack playlist]
BONUS
For those lucky enough to live in countries where the official music video is available, these are some of the few scenes that my (limited) eyes find worth watching. Having in the background a city that may surprise some, the images are plated with a beautiful blue light that reflects with sophisticated tenderness the lyrical subject’s melancholy [after all, blue is a word that names not only a colour, but also a feeling].
*Originally published on 21 November 2017 on my extinct With All My Heart website