Some Songs Will Always Rock

I was reading one of the blogs I frequently visit and she was talking about the negative comments that come her way and how she had an epiphany about a perhaps Lenten way of dealing with these comments. So she posted new rules of dialog - and those who disagree with her points of view responded as usual, of which she shared two of these comments.

And it must made my head sink and that internal ugh to take place, that moment of why, why, why, and then this song popped into my head. It's by Kansas and it's called "Carry On My Wayword Son".

{Refrain
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say

{Refrain

Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say

{Refrain
No!

Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
The center lights around your vanity
But surely heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry (don't you cry no more)

Visitor's Weekend

I had a good visitor's weekend at the seminary I've decided will be the place I want to be formed for my vocation.

I had thought I had worked through all the hurts, and I mostly have, but I realized I haven't completely owned my own story, that I was shy about it. That in some ways my heart had gotten all confused and worried about betrayal to places.

And as the weekend came to an end I realized how much I truly love and appreciate my Diocese and my Bishop. I realized that being at this particular seminary was going to require me to constantly out myself, that I would be one of a handful of seminarians openly gay (I was told currently there are 3; which left me wondering how many were closeted). And I had forgotten how exhausting that can be, I had forgotten what it was like to self-disclose and wonder at the reaction. I realized I'd go through another round of culture shock.


I know this is where I need to be, but I'm thankful for the realizations now and the time to sit with them.