At the current moment, I am suffering from a killer sore throat. No amount of tea, toast, or soup seems to ameliorate the battle that is happening in my throat. Fight immune system! Fight!
The other day I decided to take myself out to lunch. On my walk to the cafe that song from Pinocchio popped into my head. You know the one it goes “something something something I’ve got no strings on me” (or something very close to that). I have not watched the movie in years, mainly because I think that it is too sad. I can’t handle it.
As I was strolling down the road that seemed to go on forever, creating an infinite gap between a very hungry me and delicious soup, I mused over that song. The crazy part is that I find the song more relatable now than as a child. I don’t have any strings attached to me. I am a nomad in all senses of the word. My home is neither at my university nor at my parents’ home. My life is neither all academics nor is it devoid of academics.
But should I want the strings? Should I want to be attached to something? I think that it would not hurt knowing the plans that I have are concrete, that I have something to work forward to and, most importantly, count on.
I think that is where I get myself into trouble in my puzzling of the world. The strings part. I assume that having strings would make me feel safe. The truth is that I can feel safe at any stage of my life. Right?
Faith and hope are unconditional strings. At the other end of those strings does not lie a good job offer, a comfortable way of living, etc., just God and his infinite wisdom and unfailing love. Perhaps this lost feeling that I have is not really “lost”; perhaps it is floating, suspended by the strings of faith and hope.
And the scary feeling in the pit of my tummy, what if that is from lack of trust?