Solitude and Crazy Life

So I'm reading an entry on this great blog, Kicking the Gourd, and suddenly I find myself writing a paragraph or two on the comments. And suddenly I realized I haven't really written in a long time. Also, this comment turned into one directed back at me, with big letters: GO AND WRITE. Seriously, I lose so much time just messing around. By the time the girls are fed and in bed and the house has been saved once again from falling to the ground in a heap of cobwebs and dust, I just can't summon the energy to do anything but peruse some magazine or stare open-mouthed into the TV screen. So R.P., I would add that my life is imbalanced, too. Do I lack the commitment, the sisu, the devotion? Is it enough some days to survive, engaging all day with three sweet faces and congratulating myself that all five of us are still alive at the end of the day?

So with apologies to R.P. from K the Gourd, and with assurances that this comment was really for you, well, here it is:

i have a slightly different perspective on the "giving to people" thing than you. that is because i am in the midst of a crazy parenting phase in my life--three girls, one who just learned how to crawl--and I have to tell myself that it is okay to stop and do something else once and a while besides giving to other human beings. nobody gives perfectly, that's inarguable, and giving to another is a choice whether the motivations begin or follow the act. so i'm thinking, reading your blog, that life is all about balance. a life lived entirely in art and not in true community with humans is empty, no doubt. however, a life lived in constant, active giving to others can also be one of selfishness (to every sacrificial act, an ugly, self-congratulatory underbelly can be present).

i guess i'm thinking this way: i have to be fed by solitude, by communing with god through writing, silence, reading--i need to be filled if i am to be spilled out for someone else. on the other hand, being with people, actively serving and bungling through real life with my hands dirty makes me a much better, much more humble writer.

there is no dichotomy. the two work together, feed and eat one another. jesus' life shows us this. solitude, people. people, solitude. we desperately need both. take this perspective from someone on the "other end" of your spectrum: no time to write, exhausted by people. there are seasons to life, and each season demands that we back up, eye the scales, and balance again.