deeper

I don't necessarily consider myself a gospel music buff, but having a roommate who is has practically made me one as well. a while back, Israel Houghton & New Breed came out with a new album, "A Deeper Level". My roommate, sometimes referred to as "Meliton", raved and raved about the album so, being the broke college student that I've been for the past 4 years and will continue to be in the infinite future, I hijacked Mel's laptop and downloaded it, illegally, of course. I listened to a song or two, and then cast it aside, not interested in the screaming repitition i so often associate with gospel music.

The other day I was at LA Fitness (i know. Even i was surprised) and at the end of my "workout" (I had no idea what i was doing) I sat in the steam room for about ten minutes. Of course, I took my iPod, Daphne Majestic with me. i sat there, cloaked in floating water particles and surrounded by vague flesh-colored figures (i, however, was fully clothed. included socks and shoes.) I rested my head against the dripping tile wall behind me and after trying to find any kind of Christian music, I settled for Israel & Co. You know, change things up a bit. I clicked on the song "Deeper" because i liked the title.

Hot steam rolled up my arms and brushed against my face as the music began to capture me, note by note. Soon enough I was sitting straight up, literally feeling as though i was sitting on a magic musical carpet and it was carrying me. And i felt weightless.

I'm sure the flesh-colored figures thought i was going mad for actually having any sort of energy inside a box of steam, but I did. The music - the words, the swelling and strength of it all washed over me. And i haven't been able to get enough of this song since. Particularly the very beginning - the first two lines. I don't know what it is.

This past week has been so eye-opening, for lack of a better cliche. And yet it's been a battle. Daily I have to remind myself that I have made a decision to grow and that means setting myself aside. It means not letting myself fall back into the complacent, though highly comfortable, routine of the day-to-day with absolutely no sign of intelligent life whatsoever. I have to remind myself that attack follows victory. Always. I have to remember that discouragement is not dismissed. It is fought. So fight i must. And will.

Tonight i received an increidbly bounty of inspiration. I don't know if it was because of that book I've been reading, "Music, the Brain and Ecstasy", or because I saw August Rush or because Imogen Heap is incredible, but I felt words begin to teem, and pour.

The picture below is a pile of Imogen's very own lyric books. After stumbling upon this picture, I grabbed my journal and my pen and began to write whatever came off the top of my head - or the front of my mind. Is it possible to inspire yourself?