A very good day (albeit in an odd way)

Where to begin... I am ambivalence raised to the level of civil war - worried, delighted, and tenuously aware through it all of being held by someone who keeps me alive. And thus no direct conflict. The worry and terror from facing what I think/fear I cannot handle. The delight from being helped through it. Ah, this morning, I stayed home cause I was sick. There's some stuff I need to change... some being the understatement of the year, but... I've got a starting point. And I put together a playlist of two songs picked off all the cd's I've currently got (minus one... or three, anyway) on my computer, and have been very happily listening to it while reviewing for Greek. Ever heard of a "dee da day"? Somehow this wound up being one of those, even if laundry is neverending, Historiography is evil, and Hummel will do what neither Roden nor two Batt's classes could! (amazing how possessive I get of things I consider myself good at) and even if I get invariably sidetracked by my quirks, God is good.
And I had a thought, earlier today... while listening to Dandelions... you really should hear it... but that wasn't the thought. *sighs* small dreams.

I know. It sounds silly. But think about it for a moment...
hold it, like a small darting radiance...
I'm not sure how to explain it, but it ties in with Chesterton, and wanting to love the Universe as though it were small and familiar and dear and completely allowed to be described in endearing "little" terms. And at the same time it pulls itself out in the opposite direction, with his talk of looking up to trees (agh, that part I can't summarize, you must read it yourself). Dreams that fulfill the balance of extremes, and I'm still looking for mine.

*tilts head to side* and yet... I could swear I am already living it, them, several and multifaceted and beautiful enough to make me weep (which hasn't been too hard today, but in no way diminishes that beauty). And much of me wants to leave it at that... with exultation in the beauty, but the rest demands that some scathing evaluation of my living the dreams be given. and it has been, but it is not for you, and it is not for me, not in that form.