hey, this is kind of fun!

Yesterday was a nice day. I read, wrote in my journal, played the piano, made art, listened to music, played games, spent relatively little time on the internet, and felt overall rather good. But, in spite of all the niceness going on around me, I couldn't shake off that feeling that I should be doing something more "productive." I check my bank account again and feel the anxiousness for fiscal stability creeping up and suffocating my ability to relax and enjoy life. I express these concerns to a family member and they reply, "Then get a job." They make it sound so easy. In the past, it always was.

There are a few books I've been reading lately that have been helping me through this particularly discombobulating state of being. The first of those is Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water, which I had to read once in college and was recently recommended to me as a valuable re-read. L'Engle, who passed away last September and was most famous for her "children's" novel A Wrinkle in Time, which I read several times and deeply adored as a child, uses the 240 pages of Walking on Water to explore the tenacious question of what it means to be a Christian artist. Though I don't always agree with everything L'Engle says in this book, and though I find some of her many digressions to be rather confusing, distracting, or simply unnecessary, I'm reassured and chastened by her reminder that taking time to "be" is not only admissible, it's strongly advisable, and should certainly not be regarded as a waste of time. She states,

A more subtle time waster is being bored. Jesus was never bored. If we allow our "high creativity" to remain alive, we will never be bored. We can pray, standing in line at the supermarket. Or we can be lost in awe at all the people around us, their lives full of glory and tragedy, and suddenly we will have the beginnings of a painting, a story, a song (108).

Along the same lines I found personal reassurance in Gabrielle Bell's graphic novel, Lucky. Bell recounts the tedium of unemployment, the torment of taking jobs modeling for art classes in order to make some quick, easy cash, and the accompanying feelings of uselessness and degradation. She then demonstrates how she uses the memory of these unpleasant emotions to cheer herself up later on. In one panel, she stands in an unmoving line, thinking, "I hate this! Wait a minute, I'm not modeling. Hey, this is kind of fun!" (9).

Again with the example of standing in line. I guess the image appeals to me because it's an effective microcosm of my situation in life right now. Somewhere up ahead in the future I see Japan and an exciting new life there. In the meantime, I'm waiting. And the more I focus on the wait, the slower it seems to go by.

Madeleine L'Engle says a lot about time: about the difference between twenty-four-hour-a-day chronos-time and the measureless kairos-time in which God dwells and in which we, as poets and saints, are called to dwell as well. I'm learning to focus more on the kairos, to pray and play the piano more often, to write stories and teach myself to juggle (seriously, I'm starting to get pretty good at it, too).

Having a job is important. I can't deny this much. We live on a physical planet that rotates around the sun and is therefor governed by time. And time is money, no? Nothing has ever made that particular cliché more resonantly true than having a tedious eight-to-five job. And I'm sure I'll have many more tedious eight-to-five jobs before I reach the age of retirement. But before and when that comes, I hope to continuously look to Jesus for direction in most effectively filling the hours I am given; to put more effort into serving him and the creative passions God has given me than into serving my bank account; and to watch in awe as he miraculously provides.