Energy, Dishes, Curly Hair, and Power

I am on the verge of resolving this receding chapter. Though the resolution will probably take a long time (and possibly a lot of energy [and possibly a fair amount of money]), it is merely a set of relatively simple tasks.

I often wonder about the different types of energy that humans have. It's easy to distinguish – at least generally speaking – between physical energy and mental energy. Physically, if you do a lot of manual labor, you deplete energy. Mentally, if you're learning something new and complex, you deplete energy. Then there's emotional energy: if you're working through a situation that is laden with waning sadness, you deplete energy.

I have long envisioned humans as having four primary layers: physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual (extrapolated from Luke 10:27). I don't have any bold imaginings concerning what it means to deplete spiritual energy. I remember the time when Jesus was navigating through the dense crowd, and the bleeding lady touched Him. Jesus says something about power going out of Him. Spiritual energy? I wonder.

In any case, I like people. Especially when I draw closer to God, I like people. Those of you who know my recent story will know that I am still coming out of a dark period. If you don't know, I suspect you can still imagine hardship. The weight of my recent hardship was pressing on me a few days ago. I asked my dad, "Is God good?" I wasn't even doubting God's goodness; I just wanted dad to remind me in more words than my saddened heart could summon at the time. After dad reminded me a lot, I felt vibrant - like hyperactive. I still feel hyperactive. I'm friggin tired. I've been sick for over a week now, and my sinuses are very clogged. I rarely sleep well.

I feel vibrant. I feel hyperactive. I feel absurd. I feel unafraid. I feel silly. I feel motivated.

I unloaded the dishwasher this morning. To some, that might seem exceedingly underwhelming. To some, that might seem respectable. To some, who cares? Many years ago, there was a time when I probably did dishes almost as much as my mother did. I'm not saying anything about competition; I merely wanted to serve better. I have been staying at my parents' house for a while now. I have barely done any dishes. I had been worried that my desire to serve had kinda floofed out or something vague like that.

I think I had just been drained. Severely drained. In all of my layers. Often, I'd see a full dishwasher or a full sink and think that I wanted to do the dishes, but it seemed so overwhelming. I was almost encouraged by that feeling: it wasn't plain laziness; it was some kinda piercing fatigue.

This morning, I unloaded the dishes. I was encouraged. I am determined to serve more, but I am glad to know that that desire wasn't completely sapped. I know it's not a lot. Slowly but surely.

Curly hair! If you reject your curly hair because it's too much bloody work, I understand. I generally just buzz my hair (like 0 setting with hair clippers) because I really just don't care to have hair.

However, if you reject your curly hair because you don't think it's attractive, that's absurd! Curly hair is the best hair. There is a lady at Starbucks that has ... I'm not sure how to describe it. She has normal-length hair except on the right side of her head, which is shaved/buzzed. I asked her what inspired that particular do, and she said that her hair is curly like "Crazy Spice" (direct quote). Because of this – she said – guys seemed not to approach her.

This is like double-triple absurd. First of all, guys are dumb. Secondly, don't change hair for guys because guys are dumb. Thirdly, if guys aren't approaching you, they're dumb. Fourthly, if guys ARE approaching you, they're still dumb – not because they're approaching you; they're just dumb innately. Fifthly, guys are dumb. Sixth and lastly, curly hair is the best.

I'll share one last thing, and then I have to devote some time to Werbel.

I've been watching Heroes. Peter Petrelli's power is to absorb/replicate other people's powers. He's trying to figure out how to control them, so he demands help from this bloke whose ability is to turn invisible. The bloke says that Peter is so bogged down by caring about everybody; he says that, to control his powers, Peter has to stop caring about everybody, to forget about everybody. After a few extreme "training sessions" (if you will), Peter realizes the opposite: to recall powers, he has to remember the individuals, who they are and how they made him feel.

I thought there was something profound in that: the idea that, to summon power, one has to remember others, to invest one's heart in remembering them.

I have no idea what that means for me here and now, but I wanted to share that.