All God's Creatures

Maestro, known to alert readers as  Meestie the Beastie, who likes nothing better than watching water run down a drain, has a new hobby. He jumps up in front of my computer monitor and watches my cursor move as I compose music. I'm well into a study of what makes music suitable for liturgy. I have several versions of the Gloria going these days, so my cursor, that small green indicator on the screen that moves note by note as I try out ideas for robust yet prayerful singing, is busy. Meestie watches intently. 

My first reaction, I am sorry to say, was to heave him off the desk, and onto the floor where he could not get in the way. But, being the persistent creature he is, he immediately jumped backed up on the desk and continued his perusal of my score. 

And then I had another thought.

How wonderful it is that, in my week of Covid confinement (I'm not terribly sick having been innoculated and boosted,) I can still be creative and busy, even if my output is (perhaps) sub par. I mean, I have a functioning computer with a Musical composition program installed that allows me to put onto paper the notes that I would otherwise be hand writing, and thus it saves me time and frustration. ( Alas, it doesn't make me a better composer.)

We live in a time of  amazing technical advancement, that over the span of 30 or so years most of us now take for granted.  Meestie does not. He regards it as amazing that a green cursor can move around a big flat screen and apparently produce a work of music, or a bunch of dots and sticks and parallel lines.

Whatever.

It is wonderful, this time we live in, even if it is fraught with conflict and viruses, and a complete lack of civil discourse in the public square.

We have cursors. We have all the advancements that computerized technology has birthed. 

We have pets who remind us from time to time not to take ourselves too seriously, and to receive with gratitude the gifts we have already been given.

We have a God who burns with divine love, who IS divine love for each of us, no matter our circumstances.

Meestie is back up on my desk, which I take as a sure sign that my writing for today is finished. That's probably for the best.  Whichever version of the ronas I have, it has taken away much of my ability to concentrate.

So for now, the cat and I are retiring for a nap. We wish you peace and renewed contentment.