THE LIFE OF PIE
I am ever tormented by time.
For those of you sci-fi buffs out there, you may have an intimate understanding of the jealously that I feel for creatures who lack the need for sleep - i.e. Vampires, Terminators, and other A.I. Machines.
I'd even be willing to clone myself and download my consciousness into another body altogether if it meant I could free up more time in my life for the things that I want to accomplish.
Perhaps I should look into purchasing a robot? Who knows? Every day of my life is filled with too many tasks and too little time.
My life is like a pie that's sliced up every morning and eaten throughout the day. By the end of the day, nothing is left but the crumbs.
I'd love to have more than crumbs left over at the end of the day.
THE SLICE THAT I TRADE
There is one slice that I forget to eat sometimes. Or rather, I label it as something else and eat it anyway, distorting it's intended purpose in my "life of pie."
That is the slice that is dedicated to God and God alone. My time with God is the first slice I am always tempted to re-label and trade for something else.
This is a strange paradox I struggle with being a Christian. I know that God is the very source of my breath, my life, and my wellbeing, yet I trade him so easily.
One thing I am learning about prayer and meditation, a slice of the pie, is that there's always a reason not to do it due to the pressures of time. What's even more daunting is that I, a being bound by time, am spending some of that time trying to connect with a being that isn't bound by time at all.
O' the confinement of matter. But it is my lot, nonetheless. I am human.
What I can say, is that when I keep this slice as a regular part of my day, all the other slices of the pie seem to have more substance to them. They are less rushed. They are less reactive. There's a steadiness, a calmness underneath them that they lack when I trade my "God-slice" for something else.
The truth about my prayer life is that each time I sit down to pray, there's always a reason not to. But I do it anyway, because it adds depth to the rest of my life, and at the end of my day, strangely enough, there is more left than just the crumbs.