Today, I I called myself a “whimsical dabbler” as a way of celebrating and embracing my quick decision to stand on our stoop and cheer the Nittany Valley Half-Marathoners on as they passed by about midday today. (We’re at about mile eleven of their route.) It thereby also a way to encourage myself to make more decisions of what to do out of loving whim, and to accept my identity as a dilettante, and not just in the arts. Indecision about hunting this past week had me down this morning after an unsuccessful hunt yesterday.
I did decide I would become a suburban bowhunter after finding out how much red meat meant to Carla.
Follow the impulses of your heart and the desires of your eyes, yet know that God will bring you to judgment for all these things. Let all that you do be done in love, that is, in self-donation for the benefit of others, whom you view as more important than yourself and unsurpassably wonderful.