Living on the surface interests me little. That facet of myself frustrates many in my orbit. And yet I have managed to find few others who are willing to delve deeper with me, despite my knowing. This, I sense, is one of my very great flaws.
In my youth, I committed. I refused to spend much time at all with anyone who dallied with the superficial.
But it wasn't long before I caved in on that commitment. Out of sheer loneliness, and malnourishment in my faith.
Such has gone on a very long time. I brush shoulders with others who dabble with me at fishing midst the depths... but for the most part, I too have become one who settles for fumbling my way through the daily routine.
Sure, I have heroic moments. I am a giving person; an honest one; a kind person. A seeker of fulfillment. My days have meaning. But they are not profound. They are not unwaveringly authentic... because the superficiality is prevalent.
Note that I write 'superficiality' and not 'mediocrity.' Very different words. I can laze here in superficiality without living in mediocrity. And some people -many others I know, in fact- find great satisfaction living in superficiality... and therefore they are missing perhaps nothing. And their lives are by no means mediocre.
But me? As I remain here, tiptoeing on the surface, I am starving myself. And I know better. And therefore it is a sin.
...Is it my codependence that keeps me here? Is it fear of being alone? Is it lethargy? Desperation? Weariness?
I must coax myself to recall who I am; I must again reach for the courage and determination to be myself fully. To plumb those depths; to quest for the truths and silences and complexities and simplicities that meet me there. I hunger for it. I must away again to that sacred quest, that is my own.
Amen.