Dilly Daddleing with Dabbles

Dabble #1: Stumbling Toddler 

                She sleeps all day and parties all night. Her only care in the world is making sure she makes it into work on time so she can pay the rent. Because paying rent is what being an adult is about, but there’s more to adulthood than bills. More than moving out and exercising freewill. She thinks she’s all grown up, but she’s really a stumbling toddler playing with electrical sockets.

Dabble #2: Walking Corpse 

                My hands are cold without yours to keep them warm. My soul is freezing more by the moment as the days of our separation tick by. I fear that there may be no thawing it. With each passing moment I can feel myself changing. Feel my life force draining. Where are you? Where have you gone? And why have you left me a walking corpse?

Dabble #3: Everything She Dreamed Of 

                She thought she had wanted to leave. She was a small town girl enticed by big city lights and wishing, as she leaned against that cold window, that she was anywhere but there. Traffic, coffee, more opportunities, less cotton, no corn fields…it was all she had ever dreamed of. Everyone at home were settlers, but not her. Oh no, never her. She wasn’t like them. Those rednecks. Those hics. She wasn’t a hillbilly or a cowgirl. She was meant for more. Dreamed of more. Nothing but joy had been felt the day she had packed her belongings and shipped out. Yet, the room was cold and so was her soul. Her heart ached. Her soul cried out in pain. What was wrong with her? Why did it hurt so much? The apartment was perfect, her job was satisfactory, her life was the hectic hustle and bustle she had dreamed of, and yet she wished that she could walk across town at night without the fear of being mugged. She wished to go to the beauty salon to sip lemonade and gossip about Sally and Joe. The big city was everything she dreamed of, but not all that she hoped for.

Dabble #4: Churches 

                Big churches with multiple services…it’s so easy to get lost in them. Sink into a back pew, do your time, and leave without once being noticed. Simple. Easy. The hardest part is navigating through the masses. So many bodies. So easy to disappear. So few with identities. They were perfect for some, but not for all. A small church, now that’s built on connections; it's built on identities. Everyone knows everyone and they even know things about you before you know them. No peace. No quite. No escape. Getting out is easy, it’s getting to the door that’s the hard part. Everyone wants to talk. Everyone wants to ask, “How have you been?” “Where have you been?” “Are you feeling alright?” “Can I pray for you?” Religion, you think, is built on the concept of a relationship. A relationship with the Creator. So why not have those connections. Still…it’s so easy to disappear in those big churches and sometimes invisibility is nice. No church is perfect though. Churches are made up of humans and humans are far from perfect. Yet, as you walk through the aisles of your home church, that small town church, and think about the big one you sometimes attend, you can’t help but think; big churches have the masses, but small ones have the faith to feed them.

Dabble #6: To be Someone 

                All this hustle and bustle and yet no one’s going anywhere. Stop lights, coffee, heated words, clacking heels, and roaring engines. Everyone’s trying to get somewhere but no one’s moving. Stuck on life’s treadmill they go on, trying to give time they don’t have and steal what little they can for a few seconds of sanity. In the end they all end up in the same place. In their beds plotting to do the same the next day. Meaningless is what their existence has become. Exceptional is what they desire it to be. They push and shove, they elbow people out of their way. They run on the treadmill of life so they can climb the ladder, so they can leave a mark behind. Because everyone wants to be someone before they die. 

Dabble #7: Sound and Fury  

                “It’s all sound and fury,” the professor rephrased the great playwright and for the first time in years the student felt that she finally understood those words. No matter how much she learned, no matter how many books she read, no matter how many exams she passed, in the end it was all sound and fury. It was all nonsense. It was all meaningless. What mattered wasn’t grades or that coveted piece of paper saying she graduated. What mattered was passion. And she had lost it.