Hamster wheels and treadmills.

"...It was a quick succession of busy nothings..."

Jane Austen was a genius; it's just a fact.  I don't think she ever wrote a word that I don't love, and if my blog has a long run, this won't be the last time I quote her.  She had an incredible way with words. 
The above line is from her novel Mansfield Park, but in the 1999 movie version it was turned into the thought "Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings" by the story's heroin, Fanny Price.

The first time I heard this line I thought, Yep, that pretty much sums it up.  Because, to be honest, sometimes that's how it feels - running, running, accomplishing little, and going nowhere fast.  It will probably be an ongoing process, but I want my life to be full of somethings, not nothings.  On my own I produce little more than days full of wasted hours and missed opportunities, but I pray that over time - and with considerable help from the Lord - I will eventually have something worthwhile in light of eternity to show for all of my busyness. 

Bushel baskets and all that jazz.

Sometimes I really wish I could write music.  Or poetry, either one.  Not that I haven't tried before, I have, but though I wouldn't classify the attempts as complete failures, they certainly didn't produce any works of genius.  Some days, like today when it's so bright and sunny out or on days when it's delightfully gloomy (and some days when I'm just feeling creative), I get the sudden urge to write a song.  Now, I can write prose with the best of them (or at least the fair-to-middling of them) and I can compose music in my head fairly easily, but as soon as I sit down to express my thoughts in lyrical form, my writing talent takes a sudden turn for the worse, producing little better than the musical equivalent of "see Spot run."  And so, after I have produced one or two lines that would be generously described as mediocre, I usually give up, frustrated that my creative outlet has run dry, and sad to see that my afternoon is gone. 

Anyone who knows me very well will know that I love to draw.  Drawing is usually my creative expression of choice, but a picture (arguably) cannot always express thoughts and feelings with the precision of the English language - a language at which I am, apparently, only intermittently adept. 

But, I must remind myself as I once again take up my drawing paper and pop on my iTunes playlists, just as the Bible says 'of the writing of many books there is no end,' the writing of many songs seems to be endless.  Of the thousands already written, I'm sure to find one that matches my mood (at least one), and I will be left with the time to pursue the talents God chose to give me, rather than mourning the ones I seem to lack. 

Speaking of which, let's talk about the time I wanted to be a singer...

Confessions of a failed blogger.

Well, it's been at least five years since I last considered myself a consistant blogger - back when I boasted a well-loved Xanga account, detailed the uneventful days of a homeschool senior, and included regular quotes from Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean.  I can't promise that this blog will be any more impressive or interesting, but hopefully I can find better quotes this time around. 

I've had this Blogger account since 2007, but never did anything with it outside of the writing group I was part of (and even then it was only for the purpose of commenting on other blogs).  As it appears that my life in the immediate future may yeild things more worthy of chronicling, however, I think I am ready to give blogging another go-around.