The amazing thing about the mind is that noone else can get in it, and words can't always escape it. What I mean is, I am sure the right words are somewhere in there that will quite accurately describe the sensation of the mind, and yet they are either unwilling, or unable to get out onto the screen. Jerks.
My mind is stubborn. Whatever is on it, whether I want it there or not, will continue to be there until my mind makes up its mind to dismiss it. And if you are thinking this is a fairly detached way of looking at ones mind- that's exactly right. Because that's the other thing... my mind tends to function without me really being present. This is that phenomenon of daydreaming. But about the mind being stubborn? I only say that because while it floats around in circles- it kindly gives me one thing to think about.
So yes- I have become the unwilling servant of my master mind, who has continually been hounding me to write another blog. And so, while I laboriously work on this end, it somehow feels free to wander around a little, starting with this room, picking up the sounds from Tiger, taking a giant leap to Canada, thinking about family, then Redeemer, then my nephews, friends- all quite vague really, and very distracting. But that's alright- then it remembers Easter, which reminds it of occasions, which reminds it that it is my birthday tomorrow, and I'm turning 22.
When wandering, my job gets harder. I write things that fill up space, but say nothing. Like that last sentence. I often worry about what goes on inside my head. For example, this Easter, Mark, Tim, Heather and I were out for a midnight stroll through Stourhead and tapped into our childhood forms of entertainment- nearly forgotten. We turned the full moon into our sergeant hero, the grass into a battle field, marked the manor house as our only source of freedom, and tried to beat the villanous censor lights to achieve victory. At first it was funny- we recognized how absurd we looked creeping across the grass under the full moon at midnight.. but then it became strangely real. When a sudden movement triggered the lights, we freaked out and went sprinting back across the lawn. We strategized. We took painful efforts to reach the mansion. Tim and Mark cut up their hands and knees while painfully crawling across the gravel path to reach the wall. The lights became bullets, a sure sign of sudden death. Call me crazy, but the mind can play weird tricks on you...
But it's a wonderful thing to realize that the art of make-belief is not a lost art. One wonders these things when turning 22. Things like- after 3 1/2 years of university, should my brain be a bit more developed? Do I still think like a child? Is my mind maturing?
My thoughts on this point are inconclusive.
So Easter was fantastic. 13 people in a mini-bus for three hours will obviously be fantastic, and staying in a stable yard surrounded by horses and chickens is also up there. The grounds were incredible, being landscaped to perfection around a beautiful lake, complete with islands inhabited by swans, ducks, and our very good friends- the Canadian geese. The rhodo's and daffodils worked their magic in sprucing up the place with incredible colour, and the sheep, lambs, and open grass fields generated a very peaceful pastoral feel- quite fitting for an Easter retreat. We made a trip out to the Stonehenge on Saturday, but for the most part, we entertained ourselves at Stourhead, which was fine by me. The girls had their own private cabin jammed with bunkbeds to accomodate our party of 10, and the boys had an equally large room for 2. That being said- we fully enjoyed our sleeping quarters, and stayed chaste in the process.
Top few things from the weekend
-Sharon led us in Chapel on good Friday. Isaiah 63. It really hit home.
-hopping around Stonehenge for an hour because I lost circulation in my toes. Heather and I are available if anyone would like coriagraphed dance moves
- Easter Sunday at the Anglican church
- Talent Night!
- sneaking up on baby sheep while they were sleeping, so I could pet their wooly backs
- Easter dinner/ easter egg hunt
- nice drive home with my good friends Simon and Garfunkel
Well folks- it's 12 am in England. I am maturing as we speak. Let's hope being 22 holds as much excitement as the past year- and I really have no doubt it will. Hope for the future holds a million possibilities, and excitement is bound to be caught up in there somewhere. It hasn't failed me yet!
Cheers to everyone back home! Love and miss you lots. Especially today.
I like this picture.
One- because I started a mini stampede by scaring then scattering this small herd-
And two- It captures the ratio of guys to girls on this trip. Redeemer's ratio seems to follow me.
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