So today I went for a random walk after dropping of some stuff at the cleaners, because it was too beautiful out, and ended up by the river. The smell of dish water and the clapping of the split pea river near the new North Ave bridge brought me back to memories I’d forgotten—of waking up at four, of vaguely riding my bike down smudged light blue streets, of already sore from the day before and the day before that, of stretching on mounds of gravel, of drinking Nalgene water, of carrying the stern of an eight man boat that shouldn’t have been that heavy to a dock peppered in green by the morning geese, of taking off my sandals like Moses and stepping into a starboard rigged fiberglass stern, of wrapping my shirt around my head, of masquerading a pirate, of plugging into everything as my blue and white blade cut the green cheese water, of how my legs and back and arms thought for themselves, of synching to the rhythm of the morning and to seven others, of the agony and the strength, of push and pain and relief in release between strokes, of being pushed beyond my body and then beyond my mind, of pushed to a deeper me, of beads of sweat connecting the dots of my sun freckles, of watching the sun come up while floating and flying in a state beyond pain on the dark river mirroring what looked like a litmus test smeared across the sky-water water-colored canvas—and I remembered being so profoundly alive. But I remembered discipline and commitment.
Looking at my life now, as Arnold would say,I lack discipline. I know what I want to do with my life, of how I want to live, of what God wants me to do, but can’t push myself beyond the limits of my body or mind. I re-learned today how much I need discipline to get there, to be pushed beyond myself, to where I can fully love and live and see what I would otherwise see as irreversibly filthy Chicago River water as God’s beauty and perfection mirrored around me. For me to live a practical life of love, I need discipline.
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So the message of this song might be the opposite of what's above but it reminded me of today and is simply just sick.
3 comments:
ya, that Chicago river is dirty.
mc hammer
damn.. sara bereilles is a beast. i feel like buying a guitar now... and playing for a day... and then abandoning it for several years.
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