Stuck

It smells like rain. This morning it was pouring, now it is only raining heavily. I often dislike rain; I don’t like being cooped up inside as if I were an animal. I would rather be out exploring the streets or playing basketball or spending my Saturday outside doing nothing in particular. At this moment I am feeling antsy; if I were at home I would maybe watch a movie, or maybe bake a cake (probably chocolate). I should probably study the Korean letters. Justin told me I should start writing a book. I actually just finished reading two books today; perhaps the rain is good for me. I had been working on “The Practice of the Presence of God” by/about Brother Lawrence for a couple of weeks. Brother Lawrence was a monk who worked in the monastery kitchen. He didn’t accomplish anything that would end up in history books or do anything that Hollywood could make millions off of; instead, he simply lived in “the presence of God” at all times through constant thanks, praise, confession, and general conversation with God: simple, yet difficult. Brother Lawrence was a devoted servant of God who sought no praise or recognition for his work, humbly carrying on his tasks and serving others as though he was serving God Himself with every action. He also did not see great value in the classic idea of pietistic Christianity, believing that he was just as close to God when washing pots and pans as during set times of prayer. Humbly walking with God at all times: not a bad way to live your life.
The second book that I read was “The Old Man and The Sea” by Hemingway. I must confess that I began to read it so that I could say that I had read a classic. I don’t read many fiction books and I don’t know if I’ve ever read a “classic” before. I don’t think I’m very good at analyzing the meanings and undertones of novels, so I’m not exactly sure about all of what Hemingway was trying to convey to his readers. I do know that it was a book about relationship, a book about the deep desires within us, a book about fighting to attain and the cruelty of losing the things we’ve worked for, a book about what makes life worth living and the stuff that really matters.
I should write a book? With all of the brilliant literature available in the world, with so many books written by authors with great depth and insight, what would I write that would say something new or worth reading? No, I think I shall read books for now, or at least until I am struck with a genius idea. I have heard it said that many of the genius minds in the world were also a little crazy. I’m not sure what comes first: the genius or the crazy; but it’s still raining, which means I may be traveling quickly down the path of crazy. Let’s hope that genius follows, or maybe that it just stops raining.