Small Step Regeneration

I made an important decision today. With so many hours of free time to examine my life and personality, my goals and dreams, I realized I have a lot of cobwebs hiding in very big closets. Sadly, so many of my free hours have been spent either on internet networks or thinking about said internet networks. Not on developing my photography. Not on learning to play the guitar or ukulele. No even on memorizing new prayers or something as basic as the Nicene Creed. No, my time has been spent obsessing over Gmail and Facebook. Today I decided to clear away my first cobweb, the beginnings of internet addiction, and deleted my networking accounts.

I don't want my life to be lived through a computer screen, longing after friends that are years in the past and miles and miles away. I want to live in Seattle and connect with friends face to face. I don't want to be bombarded by pop culture and internet advertising against my will. I want to be filled with art, literature and music. I want my life to be real and present.

I woke up and looked at myself today. Within the bed sheets and blankets, I noticed a grey and scaly mess clinging to my body. It was itchy but there was also comfort in knowing it was there. It was predictable. It was familiar. It was by no means attractive, but in some ways I almost liked it. But did it itch! Should I keep it or let it go?

With hesitation at first, but later a driving and burning determination, I pulled back the old skin and hoped that something better lie underneath. Something beautiful and in the process of becoming. Something that might be scary in its infancy but grow into the vibrant and brightly colored person I was meant to be.

God willing, today I will buy a used guitar.

From CS Lewis' novel, The Great Divorce:

I saw coming toward us a Ghost who carried something on his shoulder. Like all Ghosts, he was unsubstantial, but they differed from on another as smokes differ. Some had been whitish; this one was dark and oily. What sat on his shoulder was a little red lizard, and it was twitching its tail like a whip and whispering things in his ear. As we caught sight of him he turned his head to the reptile with a snarl of impatience. 'Shut up, I tell you!' he said. It wagged its tail and continued to whisper to him. He ceased snarling, and presently began to smile. Then he turned and started to limp westward, away from the mountains.

'Off so soon?' said a voice.

The speaker was more or less human in shape but larger than a man, and so bright that I could hardly look at him. His presence smote on my eyes and on my body too (for there was heat coming from him as well as light) like the morning sun at the beginning of a tyrannous summer day.

'Yes. I'm off,' said the Ghost. 'Thanks for all your hospitality. But it's no good, you see. I told this little chap,' (here he indicated the lizard) 'that he'd have to be quiet if he came- which he insisted on doing. Of course his stuff won't do here: I realise that. But he won't stop. I shall just have to go home.'

'Would you like him to be quiet?' said the flaming Spirit- an angel, as I now understood.

'Of course I would,' said the Ghost.

'Then I will kill him,' said the Angel, taking a step forward.

'Oh- ah- look out! You're burning me. Keep away,' said the Ghost, retreating.

'Don't you want him killed?'

'You didn't say anything about killing him at first. I hardly meant to bother you with anything so drastic as that.'

'Its the only way,' said the Angel, whose burning hands were now very close to the Lizard. 'Shall I kill it?'

'Well, that's a further question. I'm quite open to consider it, but it's a new point, isn't it? I mean, for the moment I was only thinking about silencing it because up here- well, it's so damned embarrassing.'

'May I kill it?' [...]

'Why are you torturing me? You are jeering at me. How can I let you tear me to pieces? If you wanted to help me, why didn't you kill the damned thing without asking me- before I knew? It would be all over by now if you had.'

'I cannot kill it against your will. It is impossible. Have I your permission?'

'I know it will kill me.'

'It won't. But supposing it did?'

'You're right. It would be better to be dead than to live with this creature.'

'Then may I?'

'Damn and blast you! Go on, can't you? Get it over. Do what you like,' bellowed the Ghost; but ended, whimpering, 'God help me. God help me.'

Next moment the Ghost gave a scream of agony such as I never heard on Earth. The Burning One closed his crimson grip on the reptile: twisted it, while it bit and writhed, and then flung it, broken-backed, on the turf.

'Ow! That's done for me,' gasped the Ghost, reeling backwards.

For a moment I could make out nothing distinctly. Then I saw, between me and the nearest bush, unmistakably solid but growing every moment solider, the upper arm and the shoulder of a man. Then, brighter still and stronger, the legs and hands. The neck and golden head materialised while I watched, and if my attention had not wavered I should have seen the actual completing of a man- an immense man, naked, not much smaller than the Angel. What distracted me was the fact that at the same moment something seemed to be happening to the Lizard. As first I thought the operation had failed. So far from dying, the creature was still struggling and even growing bigger as it struggled. And as it grew it changed. Its hinder parts grew rounder. The tail, still flickering, became a tail of hair that flickered between huge and glossy buttocks. Suddenly I started back, rubbing my eyes. What stood before me was the greated stallion I have ever seen, silvery white but with a mane and tail of gold. It was smooth and shining, rippled with swells of flesh and muscle, whinneying and stamping with its hoofs. At each stamp the land shook and the trees dwindled.