It has been quite a while since I have last posted on here. Originally, the delay was intentional but I didn’t realize that it would be as long as it has. I can’t believe that it was actually a little over a month back when I was walking down the sidewalk, mentally writing what was going to be my next blog post when I saw something that prompted Dad to begin teaching me something about myself which ended up causing this delay. I’ll get to that, but first some pictures:
I was actually walking along the sidewalk where those gentlemen were in that picture above when the sounds of heavy machinery pulled me out of my mental reverie. I turned to my left to see what they were working on, but all I could see was this wall of silver. That wall was probably about 6’6″ high. It was just enough that most normal people (not named Will/Dan Hampton) couldn’t see past it even were they to stand on their toes. You knew that there was construction going on over there. Above the wall, you could see the tops of some of the equipment, but you could not see the details of what’s going on.
Now, I had seen this or similar all over Istanbul in travels, but I hadn’t really noticed it before. Suddenly I realized that, whenever possible, any construction work going on in this city is hidden from public view. No, they don’t hide the fact that construction or repair work is happening. They just hide the specifics of what is going on. In digging up an old pic of the Hagia Sophia I realized that even there, where old things structures and necessary repairs were to be expected, they had put up such a wall.
This was another of those minor differences that seem to keep popping up every now and then between Turkish culture and American. As I was thinking that another part of me, or perhaps Dad, responded. No. They aren’t nearly so voyeuristic.
That hurt. As soon as the thought came out, I knew that my toes were being stepped on. As I started thinking about it, I realized that I hadn’t really been present in my life. I was living, working, going through the motions of life, but I wasn’t doing it for the sake of living. I was doing so for the sake of what I can share on social media. Here. Every thing I did, everything I saw, I was constantly thinking how I could shape it, share it, or post it. I wasn’t just living for the sake of living. I wasn’t in the moment. Most of all, I was so busy speaking, or thinking of speaking, that I wasn’t taking the time to listen.
I don’t think I am alone in this problem. As I took a while to step back and step away, I began noticing how prevalent such tendencies are in our culture. How often do we get on facebook to see others posting about how everyone posts too much on facebook? Even after six weeks where I created nothing original for this blog (Peace is a quote from a book and B2C was an adaptation of a devotional), I still find myself often thinking about how I can share what is happening at that moment here rather than simply being in the moment.
Does that mean I shouldn’t post here? No. My calling is to write and this is a platform Dad has given me that I must develop and use. What it does mean is that I need to find balance. For now, since I am back, I will only be writing once a week. Beyond that, when I am writing it will more likely be like those bottom two pictures. Even though some construction might be going on, I would much rather share the Architect’s plan than everything happening underneath. So please forgive me. Just because I am a work in progress doesn’t mean the whole world needs to see my mess.