D.H. Lawrene would have liked it

A full-blown rainbow, a complete arch, bent its beauty over Monroe yesterday, in the late afternoon. It was vivid against a sky of dark gray clouds, as the sun seemed to collapse into the earth. It was perfectly formed. And I couldn't help but think of the first rainbow I read about as a child--the rainbow God showed to Noah after the Flood, the Covenant, God's promise to not destroy the world in water again.

As if the beauty of the rainbow weren't enough, you would not believe the light show the clouds were hosting. I haven't seen lightning like that since I moved out of Mississippi. It was prettier'n the heat lightning storms I remember watching in high school, when it was so hot, but so dry, and the lightning would spark from cloud to cloud, pink and pristine, precise and dangerous.

To see those electric veins leap from cloud to cloud behind the rainbow? Well, mankind cannot produce such things without effort. Nature does it without thinking.

I wish, sometimes, that I could exist without thinking. "The unexamined life is not worth living," said Socrates, and I couldn't agree more. I live the examined life, the self-examining life, so the brain never seems to turn off. I wish I could turn it off, for a little while at least, so I could hear more clearly what my heart was saying, what my soul was saying.

There are so many things dervishing around in my skull. Pros and cons, possibilities and losses, gains and guesses. It's not easy to sort and process all the data, all the knowledge, all the wisdom, when it flies around like debris in a hurricane, which is what it's doing right now.

This afternoon is my phone interview with Chaffe McCall, the law firm in New Orleans looking for a librarian. It's the oldest firm in New Orleans and boasts clients such as AmSouth, Pfizer, Louisiana State Employees Group Benefit Plan, the Royal Bank of Scotland, Sherwin-Williams, and several other large and well-known corporations. Am I afraid? Maybe. Of what? Many things. That I'll be offered the job. That I won't be. Of working there. Of staying here. So many things. I'm overwhelmed, overshadowed, and bursting.

I guess there's no point in worrying about anything, though. There's nothing I can do at this point but my part: be there when the phone rings and answer their inquiries to the best of my abilities. The rest is in their hands...and in God's, and there's where my comfort rests.