purposeless instruments

shiftless, i sit before the screen, a million things to do and none of them compelling enough to move me from my chair, at least not at the moment. i can hear the hum of dan's earphones behind me, hear him mouthing the words to a song i know, rearranging his neatly organized desk.

my own desk is a pile of...piles. cds stacked haphazardly, paperes sitting atop books sitting atop more papers. everything is dog-eared in the land of kim. there is an instruction manual for a mp3 player i've already figured out, a recipe for beef stroganoff, a code for one of my cameras, my w2 from 2007, a small pink tin lantern i picked up for half-off at the Bibelot, a candle that smells like pumpkin pie, the little brochure from my uncle paul's funeral.

when i open it i see the little card that is placed there--something to carry along, i suppose, in remembrance. it holds what is quite possibly my favorite prayer. i'm not the praying type--i feel that if there is a prescence that is all-knowing, then it will know what i consider thought-consuming, without me putting voice to words.

i'm not Christian, i'm not Wiccan, i'm not anything, really. i don't believe in the here-after--not in the sense of cherubs and harps and angels and haloes. there's quite a lot i don't believe in, come to think of it, but what i do believe in is that people have the opportunity to be--more.

the prayer does not tell me how to be--it is a suggestion, really, a recipe for getting into a heaven i don't believe exists. so why do i love this prayer so very much, then? because it embodies so many people i know, and it is after their image that i would like to model my own.

prayer of st francis of assisi

lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
where there is hatred, let me sow love.
where there is injury, pardon.
where there is doubt, faith.
where there is despair, hope.
where there is darkness, light.
o divine master, grant that i may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
for it is in giving that we receive,
and it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.