Dear Pneuma,

I went piano shopping recently, and the whizzy, dizzy desire engendered in me was terrifying and wonderful all at once.  This hunger, one I have had since at least third grade, surged to the forefront of my mind.  I wasn't even looking at pianos I was intending to buy.  I was just looking at pianos for the first time in years.

My hands ached to feel the keys.  My ears yearned to hear the deep, resonating boom of a well regulated bass.  My heart jumped into my throat, trying, unsuccessfully, to get a seat where it could see.  In a moment, all thoughts of financial planning, covenanted goals, the needs of poverty-stricken and dying peoples world-wide, were swept away in a yearning for an instrument of sound.

My first instinct was to get away-to go someplace where I could get this yearning under control, but if there is one thing life is teaching me, it is that fear doesn't accomplish much.  Fearing my own powerful desires is not useful.  I've known myself for quite a while, and I very much doubt that this dream of a baby grand piano arose from shallow materialism.  I very much doubt that, were I to buy a NICE piano, I wouldn't play it or enjoy it.  In fact, I am even confident that settling for a lesser instrument won't work.  I won't love it and my music will suffer.

So, while fear suggests that I stay away from temptation, knowledge suggests that this is not temptation but something less cosmic in its impact.  Fear suggests that things get in the way of a relationship with God.  Knowledge suggests that only I get in the way of a relationship with God.  Fear worries that an "extravagant purchase" does not honor My Beloved's relationship with money.  Knowledge suggests that my relationship with money can be honored as well.  Fear suggests this desire for a piano evidences a selfish, shallow character that cares more for art than for people.   Knowledge suggests that the music I share evidences a character molded, shaped, formed and best expressed through sound.

Though I realize this letter makes an argument that leans to my desire, it is an important argument for me to make, because the nature that pushes me away from my desire is a fearful, angry, judgmental and insecure nature.  I have been taught, though perhaps I haven't yet learned, that another word for good is Love, and as far as I can conceive, Love is not angry, judgmental, or insecure.  Instead, Love is fearless, patient, encompassing, and complete. 

Following the promises I made to myself when my life started over, I will trust, follow, and walk the blind way and see where it takes me.

Love Always,

Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

Did you know I have been working on a composition?  Did you know I have been working on a book?  Did you know I am planning a concert in the fall?  Did you know I have been painting my house?  Did you know I have been leading music groups and organizing worship for about 30 hours a week while being paid and expected to work for 5 hours a week?  Did you know I have been managing finances and maintaining a social life?  Did you know I have been running regularly and meeting with health professionals as well as keeping up with long-distance friends and family?  

Did you notice I am crazy?  Too much.  I take on too much.  Then I have to drop something and I feel like a failure; you know the person I mean: a loser,  a liar, one of those people that you want to avoid because their lives are made up of problems they themselves created, but they are either too stupid or too self-willed to change their behavior.  

I feel like that.  Is there someone out there that juggles all of these balls and can keep them in the air?  If it is impossible, why do I keep trying to do it?  If it is possible, why can't I seem to get the hang of it?

The thing that really makes me feel like cringing away and burying myself in blankets until next fall is shame.  I feel ashamed because I am afraid of the consequences of failure.  I am afraid to admit that I am a mediocre person.  

What will people think of me if I say I am going to do something and then I don't follow through?  What kind of friend am I if I want to avoid discussions because I am too tired and stressed out to truly listen and care?  What kind of whiner am I if I think I am working hard when I KNOW most everyone else is working harder?  Why can't I just tough it out like everyone else?  Why can't I just put in that extra effort and pull it all together?  

Yet, something tells me that only in facing down these fears will I find ways to stay out of this position in the future: this position of lies where I act like it costs me nothing to meet expectations; this position where I put my goals on hold to perform up to non-existent standards; this position where I calculate self-worth based on hours worked, stress accrued, and number of innovations implemented in a short time; this position where I seem to think that trust, loyalty and faith are rewards I can earn.

Time-that seems to be key.  Take time.  Allow time.  Trust time.  Believe in time.  In the meantime, I shall let go of my myth and embrace myself, one more time.  I shall walk face first into the meetings and allow others to be proven right.  I shall gather the bits and pieces of the goals I scattered and try to put them back together.  I shall take a deep breath and decide that my first responsibility is not to another's hopes or expectations, and I shall try, yet again, to take things slowly, one step at a time.  I shall name myself  less than I have hoped I could be.

So-Book, I release you.  Composition, I release you.  Job, I release you.  Home decoration, I release you.  Responsibilities, I release you.  Exercise, I release you.  Concert, I release you. Relationships, I release you.  Greatness, I release you.  Whatever I have said I will do, I release you.  

I can fail.  I can lie.  I can hurt.  I can incomplete.  I can quit.  I can be whoever it is I am.

I can.  I will

Cobalt Dreams