Pamela Louderback, Day 18

The passage in C.S. Lewis' 'Surprised by Joy'  -- "If I find in myslf a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." -- seems to fit my mood of late. 

Not so much from a wholly spiritual context as with Lewis, but certainly there are spiritual aspects to my recent 'reality' as with Edmund in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Like Edmund, I want to live life my own way (don't we all?), to have my fill of all things that are good -- and to rule over, or at least, be somewhat in control of my own little 'research' world. But, just like Edmund, I feel somewhat trapped in an ‘always winter never Christmas world’. I seem to be chasing after all sorts of things (academic contacts, contacts to the Irish immersion school, contacts in the NI Department of Education) in the hope of finding "it" -- whatever "it" is -- reading secondary and tertiary texts, journal articles and the such are helpful to a point.  But as I type in the title that glaringly notes it's day 18, I feel as if "it" -- whatever "it" is -- continues to elude me -- wondering whether all my plans will come together and all my contacts collectively will present and represent something cogent or in the least practical or constructive in the context of adding to the knowledge base. 

Like Lewis, I experience moments of joy in this research journey/discovery -- whatever "it" is --  but they are fleeting, momentary and lost moments of  happiness -- or rather excitement over discovering yet one more new fact that adds another piece to the overall 'picture puzzle'.   But it's more like those huge 1,000 + piece puzzles that are comprised of pieces so similar in form and color, that you continue to reach for a piece that doesn't quite fit.  And like Lewis, I experience ‘an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction.’ - and so I trod on -- advancing forward -- endeavoring to find Aslan's lamp -- that beacon to his creative power -- that "it" -- whatever "it" may be.   And I wonder whether at the end of my remaining three months, (winters end) that "it" will have been realized -- bringing forth, in its place, a magical spring.