Can’t Settle Down

Sometimes, a tune rolls by on the radio that calls my soul.  The lyrics and melody (well, for me, usually it’s the harmony, actually) are already etched deep into my heart, and I’m transported into that wondrous space of sharing with my Anam Cara of the moment.

Today’s Anam Cara tune was I Cannot Settle Down by Peter Bradley Adams.

Somewhere in this lonely world, there is a place where I belong

Yes, it has been a lonely world today.  I’ve self-segregated; you see I’ve got this snotty little cold and I don’t want to give it to anybody, but really I’m just not up to interacting with anybody, my pain is too close to the surface today and someone might bust through and dig around in there.  Somewhere, somewhere, there is a place where I belong, where it wouldn’t matter if it all came tumbling out….but I’m not in that place today.

And I have seen its fields and streams, they have been revealed in my dreams

Yes, I have seen them.  I can taste their air, smell their outdoorsy newness, feel the touch of the wind of creator on my face, absorb the warmth of the sun’s rays, hear the rustling of the leaves, the birds calling. And the water tumbling in the streams.  Has to be moving water. Must be moving water.  The symbol of life.

There’s a deep eternalness about this place of my dreams; an unbroken braid of humanity that’s breathed this air….in….and out….in….and out over the eons of time.  I close my eyes, and I’m close enough to touch the mastodons, and the pterodactyls, and the neanderthals, and the parade of every other living being that has been lost into time.

And then suddenly I’m awake….back in this world of reality….and the loneliness returns.  But my home is out there. Even if it’s in my dreams.

Even still, there’s something about the open road, new things, new possibilities, adventures, experiences, people…. I long to gather them in, to experience them all.  And the Anam Cara of today gets that too.

‘Cause you see I cannot settle down, there’s just too much left unfound

It’s nice to have company on this road.  I used to long for the Anam Cara to be the same Anam Cara every day and occasionally I still do.  But I’m finding that there’s a sweetness in gathering up bits of Anam Cara and molding them into a wholeness, perhaps a wee wee bit like “treasuring all these things and pondering them in her heart.” (Lk 2:19).

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