Chatter

I was walking home from writing a paper Thursday night amidst fixed frozen stars and blustery wind. I was passing under the arch of Badin hall when I noticed that my teeth were chattering violently. Fettered by the amount of work I had and pretty tired, I got frustrated. Teeth chattering. The body's reaction to cold, used to warm up the body. I scoffed at that futility of this effort. My teeth do not stand out as prominent amidst the great mass of me. How could they warm me up? So the obvious go-to reaction of my body might not be as great as say, a blanket, or a big hug.

Now this got me to thinking, and because I'd been reading Church Fathers for two days, it got me thinking about life in God. What are our spiritual teeth-chatters? What are our gut reactions when the world gets cold or things get tough? Do we turn to God, or do we turn to something else, like food or self-loathing or self-pity? Or do we hang all our problems on somebody who can't bear the weight? Are these reactions really any more helpful than teeth-chatters? Because if not, maybe we should rethink our approaches. Maybe we shouldn't examine our reactions. Maybe there should be deliberation. Maybe there should be moderation. Maybe there should be dying to self. Our body needs more than teeth-chatters. Our soul needs more, too.

This entire entry reeked of Athanasius. I'm going to bed.