Slimed

There are days that end well and days when I feel like I'm just scraping the slime off. Here's what I mean.

Days can start off so pleasantly. The sun can reach into the window to greet you. Coffee is prayer in a potter's cup. Sounds of the house say that everyone is home and about to greet the day, too. We are all greeting new days together, though there are some walls that separate us.

But as the day unfolds and we dance around in it (or just shuffle through) some slime can get dumped all over us. This slime can be bits of peoples' ideas of life that squish life down to something so trivial when the whole time we're trying so hard to trace the Spirit. The slime can come in the form of self-imposed laws that we're trading in for full life and love. The slime can come in arrogant ideas that make other people out to be wrong and what's worse, less.

I'm finding ways to scrape off the slime, though. There is so much life to live and my mystic soul is catching it's breath through CBC radio which always reminds me that there is a big world out there, through the music of Romantica and Josh Ritter whose songs soar of this real life, and through new friends met after a wonderful film viewing at Regent.

There is grace upon grace.