the restoration

Last night members of the playwrights group I've been facilitating explained to me the idea of Calvinism. In brief. The reformation of the Church around the idea that a person didn't need an intermediary (the church and the clergy) between themselves and God. And that God was not conceived by the Calvinists as the spirit personified, but rather a force, an energy? Hm. That's where things got hazy.

I feel as though the mediating factors are being cleared away when it comes to my heart, or certain feelings that have until now laid in stasis or slumber. I hesitate to name this feeling. I suspect that it could easily be filed under the letter "L" and yet I wait. I pause. Because four letters are too few. Or too many. I keep getting caught in the eternal circle of that "o" turning over and over myself, rolling in the soft roundness of it.

o.

When I travel to Lake Louise, I breathe a different air. I feel as though my batteries are recharged, those deep batteries that lie unfelt and forgotten. The blue of the lake, the icy mountain tops, the shimmer of the air. Even the tourists. These things fill me and refresh me. The Rocky Mountains, in general, do this to me. And Lake Louise especially.

My heart has been restored to me. My faith in... in... this feeling. That it even exists. And it does. I had started to doubt.