Helicopter Seeds

I’m having a week where I’m feeling the pressure of not knowing what I want to do with my life (which I think is a feeling that may never really go away… it just keeps manifesting itself in different ways throughout life, so I’m getting used to it – “the journey is the destination,” blah, blah, blah…). As a result, I’ve also been stressing about silly decisions like what to write for this week’s blog. During yesterday’s prayer meeting, Jasie read from Foster’s Celebration of Discipline, in which he suggests the discipline of silence is useful in soul-searching/goal-setting. Valerie mentioned giving it a whirl briefly at dinner tonight and that got me thinking about it too.

Another blog dilemma I’ve been experiencing over the past few weeks is that the things I’m thinking about here are often so mentally taxing (which is good and I’m enjoying it) that I don’t have the energy to write, and I feel disappointed about that. But tonight, I’m taking the pressure off of myself to write a profound, thought-provoking blog and instead I want to write about one of my little delights here at L’Abri: helicopter seeds.

I have always had a special affinity for helicopter seeds. I still pick them up when I see them on the road just to watch them spin gracefully to the ground. I found one today as I was reading outside the Chapel, which is a special treat because I got to watch it spin down all the way from the second-story balcony. As I leaned over the rail and let the seed fall, I noticed that these helicopter seeds (I’m sure they have a real name…) always freefall first before the helicopter motion kicks in, which, as long as the blade is sound, it always does. It always does because that’s the way it is designed.

Thanks for journeying with me on this blogging saga. Tune in next Tuesday for more L’Abri fun so you all can live vicariously through me as I tromp through the fall leaves and play with helicopter seeds.