Cogito ergo sum
Lovely Descartes characterized one of these verbs best. By thinking I am given a certainty for my existence, for everything else could be doubted. And, the dream argument is strong, for does it not seem real, those adventures we undertaken when at sleep? Almost as though we would like to go back to finish this awesome dream. So, how can we be certain any of this is really real?
Little do I know of him being lovely or not in all fairness. I do know that it best characterized me for oh so many years. Entirely caught in my head. I come from an academic background. At home we would discuss politics and church politics at the dinner table. I would get my dad’s attention by being smart. So, guess what I did? I was smart to the point of being a smarty pants.
No one like those, except my dad of course, so, for a while, in my rebellious years, it was all about feeling. Feeling high mostly. Or low, for, oh what a shame, any drug comes with it’s side effect. In all honesty, I would make for a great coke addicted were it not for the side effects. They really suck!
Those actually got me into a state of just feeling sh*t, all the time. Of course, there are many factors contributing to being an addict of any sorts, and none of those include being stupid and lazy, sorry to disappoint those of you who would like to judge. Drugs are powerful, we are little in control of our lives without them let alone with them.
Any ways, where was I? Sobering up is terrible. Not only have you to deal with those awful side-effects of the drugs (like feeling little to no pleasure from anything), now you have to face those ugly flaws that made you take them suckers in the first place. Like your weaknesses. So, for a while my whole life seemed to consist of only being flawed.
And, I could not even get a drink or a smoke or whatever to be able to take off the edge after what I saw. Ugh, not nice, I tell you. What would I call that best describing me in those times? Vegetating. Yes, a legume sort not doing anything, just blurb. Well, in a way I am still there, in that garden patch.
Then I saw a video on how a vintner was trimming the branches of those vines. Yes, as soon as it looked as though something was happening, guess what would happen next? Those branches, the leaves, even the first grapes of vine would have to go. Clipped off, seemingly merciless. Called pruning, it leaves the vine looking terrible.
A pretty sorry sight. Bony, bare, not much fruit even towards the end of the growing season. Yep, pretty much describes me best, a vine yard. If it weren’t for the Vineyard owner, I would probably have a major crisis by now. All these years getting sober and cleaning up my act, I mean I even have a wallet now and the last time I lost my keys I don’t even remember…
To the naked eye it often looks to me as though it was not worth it. The struggle is real, I mean, so many years poured down the drain literally. I am where I should have been ten years ago in many ways. Yes, I am loved, yet I have no way of benefiting
others, it’s frustrating. I would love to produce fruit others can enjoy.
So I guess I say what describes me best is the verb to hope. Anticipatory, in wait, hoping, expecting, excited, sometimes frustrated, but mostly, I hope. In fact, I have outrageous things I hope for. Why not? It is an outrageous God I serve. Shouldn’t that put perspective on the things I imagine He can do?