My daughter Irene, aged 5
The master in the art of living makes little distinction between his work and his play, his labor and his leisure, his mind and his body, his information and his recreation, his love and his religion. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence at whatever he does, leaving others to decide whether he is working or playing. To him he’s always doing both. James A. Michener
Simone Beauvoir, brilliant philosopher and life-long partner of Jean-Paul Sartre describes in Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter her pleasure in studying philosophy.
She found grown up, brilliant people seriously discussing the very same questions which had intrigued her as a child. Eternity. The good life. God. Right. Wrong. Happiness. Time. Goodness.
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I find the same pleasure in theology. It deals with the same questions which puzzled me as a child. Is there a God? Is Christ God? Why did Christ die, and for whom? How can I be happy? How should I live? What is the purpose of life?
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And blogging for me only retains its fun when it has a child-like sense of play. When I can play with ideas, think them through, record my conclusions, capturing stray bluebirds and hummingbirds of thought. Occasionally sharing cool things I’ve learned– beach glass and starfish of facts; little ideas, little insights, little delights. When I can write short imperfect posts every day, rather than one perfect post a week.
Whenever I get too ninja about it, and want to write big, significant, meaty posts, which make people think, and get shared and retweeted, blah-di-blah, blogging takes too long, and loses its fun. Stress enters the domain of play.
And my life becomes slightly less pleasurable because my blog is taking too much time, making “real writing” impossible.
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So, when I was praying about my blog today, I heard surprising advice, but advice I hear each time I pray about my blog, “Lower your standards. Write shorter posts. Try just one idea per post.”
Yeah!!
I no longer even try to write the big meaty posts. I don’t have the energy to. Instead, I ask, “So what are you saying to me, Lord? What are you teaching me?” or even “What’s on my mind?”
And these may be small, slight things, but they may speak to someone I do not know.
One aspect of a prophetic ministry is tuning in to God’s thoughts and sharing them with others.
Can a blog do this? I would like mine to try.
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I know that I have the most fun, and the most delight in writing when I calm down, slow down and tap into the stream of what God is saying to me, or even into my own inner stream of consciousness, and then record it, be it a minuscule humble insight or a life-changing one.
For we need both, don’t we? Cups of coffee, glasses of cold water, snacks, and the occasional banquet.
And I find the most joy in blogging when being at play in the fields of the Lord, or the fields of the blog, become one and the same.
Thanks, Les, and welcome to my blog.
Thanks to daily blogging, I have discovered that the craft gets honed in the doing of it.
My posts are so much better than they were a year or nine months ago. I guess constant practice has sharpened the writing–and made it conversational rather than literary (which is a good thing for a blog, I guess).
Good thoughts that: take the pressure off, relieve the urgency of making world changing impact,and release me from owning the results.
Still I can't help but feel a tension between honing the craft and using it.
Funny, Louise, I consistently hear God tell me to write the little things he tells me, teaches me or shows me as they occur, and I feel they are too slight.
I guess I need to give up the idol of being a ninja blogger so to allow God to speak through my blog to anyone he wants to speak.
Because the long, meaty posts often don't work, particularly!!
Sometimes I find it very easy to write when you have learnt something about God, or something has happened and you just bursting to tell people about it… I love your posts Anita, you are blessed as a blogger for a reason. It would be really cool to see a few where you have not thought so much about them, but where you are just bursting to tell people because it has just happened… They might complement the ones you think through a lot!
I have certainly spent a huge amount of time thinking, talking, worrying, fretting about art, and not creating it. But as long as one is alive, one can change, thank goodness!!
Reminds me of a quotation from Chesterton about being careless, in the sense of not caring so much, not being so worried and willful, and about art — how artists do art because they have to — it burns within them and must come out — whereas some who want to be artists spend their time and energy thinking about art and about their art and sort of talking around it.
(While I see and appreciate his point, I also see how talking and thinking about things is not ALWAYS about being worried or avoiding the substance / core / essence / foundation or manufacturing art out of nothing, but can be play and a snack.)