Shortly after I stepped off the plane this evening, I somehow managed to lock my house keys, both car keys, and laptop into the trunk of my car, while it was parked at my parent's house. So here I rest for the night, on the couch. Work (which here I'm referring to in the traditional sense) is not an option.
That is, I'm unexpectedly continuing my foray into a hobo-nomadic existence of sorts; on the couches, in the homes, borrowing the cars, and using the computers of others, and finding inexplicable peace in that. In fact I'm so OK with having locked my keys in the car in such a silly way, and not being able to go home and rest in my own place, that I am throwing myself off.
It's being proven to me that some of these new theories in my life are true; that the importance of my existence is in the virtual and the abstract, rather than the concrete. My work is examination, processing, and directive output, not "production". If we didn't before, we at least now live in a world where the abstract intangible is worth more.
Thus far I've been so focused on the tangible, the identifiable, and the explainable. It took God breaking everything I knew, everything I could feel, before I was so confused that I was willing to really see something new... and even then only because there was, from what I could see, no other option.
Two weeks ago I began discovered what my life means.