a new week. were mondays always tiring, or is it just now with our culture of weekend breaks that mondays feel like this? if i lived in a 3rd world country would i care about mondays? would i care that there was a new monday, or would i just care that it was a new day to perhaps starve to death, loose a crop or livestock because of drought, or slosh through the newly formed puddles of today - a result of the monsoon season? what if mondays didn't matter? if my life didn't have a differentiation between one day and the next and everyday was a struggle for life? would i still go for the truth? at that point, would there be anything else to live for?
these last couple weeks have been pretty thought provoking. my brain is tired of trying to figure things out and sleep just isn't a factor this past while. and yet i've nothing to be complaining about. i've plenty of friends right now who have a lot better reason than i to not sleep well. so what is it? do you ever lie awake at night having no idea what you should be thinking about? praying about? you have these conversations with God that don't even make sense in your own mind - you can only hope He can understand your muddledness.
the lesson has been importance - as in what holds importance in my life. from friends loosing jobs and houses, to watching Lindsay in her sick bed, only her eyes telling me that she knows i'm there, it seems that what's really important has nothing to do with all the things my world tells me i should have, do, or want.
sometimes i'd like to sell it all and move somewhere to live in a wee hut and work hard with my hands and feet and live a real life.
then again, maybe this is it.