The classic musical The Sound of Music is a a parade of hits from one end to another, but it was with some alarm I found myself actually listening to some of the lyrics. It’s inspiring to be told to “Climb Ev’ry Mountain”, particularly if you take it for a generalized metaphor and avoid specific applications – or I guess if you like climbing. And a dream is nice to have – if you set aside that it “will need all the love you can give / every day of your life for as long as you live”.
Actually, as a certified dabbler, it’s more a case of re-awakening concerns sparked by a more inspired source a year or so ago as my pastor was preaching through Revelation. I happened to notice – in the warning letters to the churches that open the book – that only two of the churches are threatened with complete repudiation. Ephesus is commended for works and doctrine, but judged as having abandoned their first love; and Laodicea – more famously – found to be self-confident and “neither cold nor hot”. It’s easy enough to point out that these warnings could both fit the stereotype of the American Reformed churches – the “frozen chosen” – maybe even without the works – and wonder whether it applies personally as well.
It’s a bit odd to be surrounded by admonitions towards self-care and balance and setting boundaries – things I’m generally quite good at – while suspecting I need a push in the opposite direction. Personal self-diagnosis, though, makes me a bit suspicious of these trends themselves, even if I tend to believe most movements and fads result from some real felt need whatever their eventual over-reactions. Is “safety first” the most necessary watch-word for today?
I tend to criticize indistinct tone and failure to embrace natural conclusions when I write reviews here: it is a point on which I’m aware of failing to live up to my own standards, and so perhaps I’m a bit hyper-aware on the subject with others. I care deeply about words, but I’ve avoided any professional commitment to opinions about them: the blog’s a hobby. I teach mathematics, but I don’t know that I treat it seriously enough. I’ve resisted “over-commitment” to any number of my hobbies, out of a deep-seated suspicion that it would mean time to play with the others would disappear: yet I’m unhappy with others – and not really satisfied with myself – willing to settle for second-best-at-everything.
It seems not unlikely all that actually qualifies as sloth, even if I tend to say I’m busy. I don’t know that everybody is required to have some all-consuming passion – it doesn’t seem to fit the evidence at hand. But it does rather seem as if getting anything worthwhile done requires you to work as if you had those feelings about the work at hand.
Romance of Victory 