Grains
2026-07-24
I spent most of yesterday asleep, but my body can't keep me from the page for long. No, I'm back here again today, and I have nothing on my mind really—but I still have to write because, well, you know. Some days the flow state kicks in immediately, but today I'm really finding myself grasping for the words. I hate it when I do that, but it's something I have to contend with before I inevitably lock the fuck in. It's crazy how temporary my thoughts really are. Something that will bother me for a few hours escapes my mind just as quickly, and that's such a weird thing I have to constantly remind myself of. Yet pretty much every morning, I wake up and just go, "Oh man, not again," because I genuinely don't like being alive. All the sensations, all the feelings—this shit fucking sucks, okay?
But I still have to go through with it, even if I simply can't find myself willing to do anything most days. I do struggle with constant feelings of resignation, but I've gotten better at not letting despair creep in; those feelings of resignation are completely normal, and I am totally valid for seeing that the world is a fucked up place. There are good things in this life, but not many. Those good things need to be cherished, but I still try to go about most of my day with absolute trepidation. Even if my will is flawed and ignorant to most things, I still have to make decisions and act. Among many young people, there's this struggle with feeling "behind" or that life is passing them by in some way. I know I've felt that way a lot, but I also understand that much of that has to do with my own decision-making; making the choice to do "nothing" is still a choice, and it's one I've grown more comfortable with in the course of my life.
One of my favorite stories of the saints I've read is that of Paul of Thebes, also known as the first Christian hermit. As a young man, he went out into the desert at the age of 16 and lived there until he died at the age of 113, and much of his life was spent in a way I've found my life going: waiting and praying. Out in the desert, there isn't much to wait for; the arid landscape remains still, and even in the crazed suburban hellscape I find myself in, I try to foster that stillness as much as I can. It's been said that when he was 43, a raven would come to the cave he stayed in and deliver half a loaf of bread every day until he died. I've only been this quasi-hermit for a few years now, and I couldn't imagine waiting all those years for something like that. There's too much motion even in my own simple life, and even when I find myself almost tortured by the constant movement, I still couldn't imagine being so patient as to wait multiple decades for something so simple as a bird delivering me small parcels of food.
But I still hold the contention that inaction is one of the best choices one can make; it takes a lot more guts to do nothing and trust in the Lord's provision than to try and put it in your own hands. A few years ago, I remember reading the life of J.C. Hall, creator of Hallmark cards. Originally he worked in advertising (obviously) and his first card said this: "The Lord will provide, but it's a good idea to give the Lord a little help." Clearly, Hall didn't fully understand the wisdom of those proverbial words; the Lord, even in His ultimately good and perfect nature, is indifferent to our actions, desires, woes, and everything else. That's not to say He doesn't care—no, quite the contrary. It's just that the perspective of God far surpasses that of any individual or collective, and what may look like horrendous happenings to us are just one of the innumerable grains of sand the Lord has to manage.
Instead of getting caught up in the grains, I'd prefer to let God settle the dust.
Support my work with Liberapay
Bitcoin address: bc1qtgqvj6qjxnaxkns20x5rcwnxvv3jqzhduvvxfc