by Dawn W

We think of intensity in extremes. True love is intense. Hatred is intense. We leave intensity to the outliers and find other words and emotions to express whatever is happening in-between. 

That’s part of the problem with life, I think. At least with mine. I’m content to let mediocrity and contentment wash over whatever is happening in my life because I don’t see any place for intensity. Then I learned that it’s there if you look for it. Intensity is in the way traffic stops when I’m in a hurry. Intensity carries on every note of a Beethoven piano concerto as they hit my ears. Intensity dresses as joy when I have a cup of tea made just right or hold a book in my hands that takes me somewhere else. 

We live a life designed to reduce intensity. Everything is about comfort and taking the sharpness out of the edges. We turn into creatures of mediocrity and complacency in an effort to not experience anything that would leave a mark. How easily we forget that scars tell our stories and that the heat of the summer sun burns while we dance in her rays. May we use this season of reflection and thanksgiving to seek out intensity in our lives. Let’s start feeling something real.