Shadows and Windmills

My first year of college was not exactly what one would call stellar by any means. Though I was a high achiever academically in high school, my GPA for my initial year of studies at the collegiate level dictated that I spend the next two semesters on academic probation ... yes, my grades were indeed that low. Lest you think I lost the ability to study or that my IQ dropped dramatically after completing my high school years, please allow me to assure you that my capacity for scoring lower than I ever had on tests or perfunctory essays had absolutely nothing to do with knowledge or skill or intelligence. My academic fall happened for two reasons ... I was bored with the classes I was taking because I didn't know what I wanted to do, and I rarely went to class because I was either in the student center playing poker (and winning, I might add) or I was home sleeping off the remnants of the night before ... nuff said on both of those subjects. I did, however, eventually graduate magna cum laude with a double major when I finally got into the game of college and played by the rules.

I'm sure you're wondering what changed, what the spark was that caused me to become interested in college for what it was meant to be ... a place of learning rather than a non-stop party. Without question I owe my eventual success in obtaining my degree to two professors, one in the English department and one in the Spanish department, one a female and one a male, and both passionate about helping students discover their talents and pursue their dreams. The two of them reignited my love of reading and story-telling, and they introduced me to some of the greatest writers of all-time in both English and Spanish. I fell in love with Chaucer, Milton, Shakespeare and Dante, and I can still quote passages from their works even now. As much as I adored English literature, however, one Spanish author's eloquent fictional tale of a man in his 50s and his imaginary quests for adventure quickly became my favorite story, perhaps made more so by the romance of reading it in its original Spanish iteration over the course of two semesters in a directed studies class. The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of la Mancha written by Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes captured my mind and my heart in a big, big way, and in my opinion, well deserves the honor bestowed upon it by countless critics and reviewers as being "the best literary work ever written."

I'm sure by now you are wondering where this post is going, but trust me, I've got a point. On the weekends, I often take Ollie the wiener dog for a walk in the early morning rather than the evening; I'm not sure why really, but I like to get up and go for a walk on Saturday and Sunday mornings. And a few weekends ago, I was struck by something that Ollie has done on every single one of those morning walks ... but first, I need to explain a bit. The sun shines differently in the morning than it does in the evening. What I mean is that it shines from a different direction, therefore it causes shadows to be cast differently from morning to evening. So when Ollie and I walk in the mornings, he can see his shadow in front of him on the pavement of the trail and he can't when we walk in the evenings. And every time we walk in the morning and he sees his shadow, he thinks it's another dog, I suppose, because he goes crazy. He chases his shadow; he barks at his shadow; he bites at his shadow ... it is stinking funny to watch that crazy little wiener dog try so hard to get his paws and teeth on that "other" dog. In Ollie's mind, the dog that lives in his shadow is as real as he is ... he simply needs to find a way to catch him and win the battle.

One of the most famous parts of the story of Don Quixote is the recounting of him securing one of his neighbors, Sancho Panza, to be his squire by promising the unknowing Sancho that he will make him governor of an island. A series of famous adventures ensues, beginning with Quixote's attack on windmills that he believes to be ferocious giants. I won't tell you how the story turns out ... you should read it. Especially the part about the windmills ... it's fascinating and it's famous. As I watch Ollie battle his shadow ... his own imaginary canine giant ... I often think of Don Quixote drawing his sword and lance and squaring off against the windmills he turned into giants in his mind. And when I begin to think of Mr. Quixote, I begin to wonder how much time I've wasted fighting giants in life that exist only in my imagination ... how many times I change harmless things or situations that are actually for my own good into fierce and frightening beasts that I feel I have to battle.

Chasing shadows and fighting windmills ... my prayer tonight is that God will keep my mind clearly focused on Him ... that He will help me see things as they are ... that He will allow me to view shadows in the light of His Son and feel the breeze from the windmill of His Spirit.