Thursday, July 2, 2009

Diving in

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12:57 a.m.

It was a hardish day.

I use the term ‘ish’ rather loosely because there have been others that have been far worse over the past week or two; today was not the chart-topper, but would most certainly rate amongst the top ten.

Have you ever felt like you could literally eat your way through the walls which surround you? Have you ever before felt that terrible sensation...a kind of horribleness which seems to grow, spreading like the tendrils of a noxious, wild plant—threatening to strangle you? Have you ever been in a store and wanted to start grabbing objects off of the shelves and start hurtling them across the room?

That’s exactly how I was starting to feel today. It was relentless and eating away at my insides, like that scene in “Alien” when the creature is lodged in the man’s chest and rips its way out…

I know. Gross.

Mom and I sat alone in the deafening silence of the hushed-up house for a couple of hours today. After a while, I finally had to have some type of background noise—it was far too silent: a movie, music, something.

I’d been very selective with my dad lately when it came to movies, and knew I had to be careful.

“Put in a movie,” he’d say. As I’d thumb through the collection I’d brought, I’d discard options immediately.

Mr. Deeds…No, cancer references.

Sleepless in Seattle…No, death.

Moulin Rouge?…No, death.

Pay it Forward?...No, death.

The Bucket List? Most definitely not.

So instead of a movie playing in the background, I opted for some music; instrumental strains to lift and fill. I adjusted my iPod to Jon Schmidt and then began the arduous task of being.

I was fine, until this song began to play.

I won’t go into detail of what I felt as the music played, but I felt it; I could have switched it off…I probably should have, but I didn’t. I allowed it to overpower me, to consume me, to envelop me in a vesicle of anguish.


It was later that my dad arrived back home and around 8:00 this evening I found myself down on the elevated railroad tracks which traverse over Lake Pend Oreille. I stared at the swirling rivulets of water—trillions of droplets combined together creating this massive lake.

I sat there for a long time as the sun set over the mountains, and eventually sat down on the rocks at the water’s edge, staring.

I felt the urge to jump.

But no, I’d brought no swimming trunks, and wasn’t prepared to swim.

Suddenly, I didn’t care. Giving way to impulse, I stripped away my shoes and leapt into the placid waters. I soared through the air for a moment and then was enveloped in a saturated deluge. As the water closed over me, I felt something come away, like a layer of gloom

It was like I’d been revitalized, refilled, reanimated yet again. A smile came to my face as I felt the coolness of the water flowing about me and I clambered onto the shoreline rocks.

The summer wind blew my hair as the water dripped from my clothes.

I jumped in again.

Yes, I had finally found the great and powerful Wizard of Oz, I’d found what I’d been looking for all along.

At least for today.


Mamma has spoken said...

I feel your passion and pain. Still praying and thinking of you and your family.

Linn said...

Jason friend, another amazing post. I am astonished at how well you are handling all of this. We are still praying...

Corine said...

Isn’t it incredible how some acts, which seem to be so small (like jumping into a lake with clothes on), can have such great results? I love life. I love how changeable life is with positive response and a little creativity. :D

Yeah for OZ!
Oh… to await bright blue skies after every dark storm! :D

(ha ha! I’m so corny!)

007penguin said...

Remember, Life is like a box of open the box, no grapes. no nuts. This may feel depressing at times, but just remember that although you don't get what you expect out of the box of life, you sometimes are pleasantly surprised at what you find. Like good friends. Which is what I found 15 years or so ago when you came to church that day. Thinking of all of you, say hello to Shawna and Yancy for me.

Anonymous said...

You're just such an incredible writer, Jason. I can feel how cathartic this is for you, as well--as Lord Byron said, "If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad." Bravo.

Michelle said...

Hey love the post and I am glad to see you got a haircut!!!! :)

annette said...

I looked up the lyrics as I listened to the song. Thanks. Sometimes life is just sad. I'm glad you were able to refresh yourself back to life.

Kris said...

I'm glad you jumped in. The washing off the day was good for you. We are still praying for all of you. Love you all!

Julie said...

Music is very powerful...often it says what I am thinking but didn't know how to express. Thanks for sharing your adventure!

K.J. said...

You are such a strong person with an amazing & strong family!
That is special!

Anonymous said...

Wishing you a happy fourth! :D

Hope you get to go "diving in" again!

Still praying for you...

Gerb said...

Your writing is simply amazing - and it just gets better and better. I love that last picture - it reminds me of one you've posted before, one of when you were a kid, looking wind-blown and care-free. You look happy. That's a great thing.

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