• Process

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    2 min read

    The reality is setting in. Or something like that.

    I’m so very angry right now. And sad. Still sad. Even when I was happy this winter, it was fringed with sadness. But, now, much of the happy has been replaced by the anger.

    As I mentioned before, I thought this was simply a couple of paths veering off from one another. I expected a bit of fallout, knowing there would be those who’d be unhappy with my choices. There would be some ripping and tearing as we pulled apart. Sure. All mend-able, though.

    Now I’m finding years of history dredged up and called into question. So much that was not what it seemed. It’s wiping me out, dizzying in scale. I find myself often with a racing, pounding heart — hands shaking — stomach roiling — tears welling.

    I’ve gone from dealing merely with the upheaval that comes with re-examining ones own beliefs, to now questioning the last 16 years of experiences and relationships. How often was I lied to?

    Yet again in my life, trust has been smashed by those I put the most confidence in. My father left when I was little. My mom manipulated and criticized. My first step-father abused us. There were many instances of wacky religious leaders over the course of my childhood.

    I think there was almost exactly a year’s gap in between leaving the abusive step dad behind and joining the church ministry team that would be my spiritual/emotional home for the following 15.5 years. Looking back, that year-long gap was a happy time, despite the parental divorce and turmoil and crap that went down. We had some fun, my mom and baby sister and I. There was much growth in my life.

    Here I sit, nearly 16 years later, waiting for the coming Spring. I’m feeling a bit like my February back yard: haggard, beat up, and shit on. But, Spring is around that proverbial corner. Like back in ’98-’99, I have this chance to recreate myself, to grow.

    I have to remind myself of this potential of new life. I have to face the betrayal and the grief and the anger and the fear…and then put it behind me so I can learn and grow.

    (Honestly, though… I really  just want to throw things right now. And eat french fries.)

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  • The Journey

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    1 min read

    One day you finally knew
    what you had to do, and began,
    though the voices around you
    kept shouting
    their bad advice–
    though the whole house
    began to tremble
    and you felt the old tug
    at your ankles.
    “Mend my life!”
    each voice cried.
    But you didn’t stop.
    You knew what you had to do,
    though the wind pried
    with its stiff fingers
    at the very foundations,
    though their melancholy
    was terrible.
    It was already late
    enough, and a wild night,
    and the road full of fallen
    branches and stones.
    But little by little,
    as you left their voices behind,
    the stars began to burn
    through the sheets of clouds,
    and there was a new voice
    which you slowly
    recognized as your own,
    that kept you company
    as you strode deeper and deeper
    into the world,
    determined to do
    the only thing you could do–
    determined to save
    the only life you could save.

    -Mary Oliver

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  • More Turbulence

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    2 min read

    I’ve recently found out that someone I’ve relied upon for years is a liar. Yes, yes… I know, many of us are. But, in this case, I’m not talking about standard, garden variety white lies– such as hiding the three doughnuts you ate for breakfast yesterday. This is full-fledged, relational-betrayal, multi-person-damage-causing deception.

    I haven’t merely put my trust in this person… I’ve followed their advice for big and little decisions, interwoven most aspects of my life with theirs, worked side by side for over a decade, ran to their defense, fought to gain their approval, believed what they’ve told me…

    For the last several months (year? or more?), I have just thought that our paths were slowly diverging. We’d walked together, but that was simply changing as life evolved and beliefs shifted in different directions. We could still be friends, though. Right?

    As the fog I’ve emerged from has continued to clear, I’ve gone from just seeing the fork in the road ahead to looking behind and seeing unexpected carnage littering the path behind. How was I so blind? Why was I so sheltered from the violence? Is any of it my fault? Could I have stopped it?

    I have moved from a place of elation at my freedom, to some sort of grieving. Anger, anxiety, depression. I should really be writing to help clear my head, but I’d rather just hide away in books.

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  • Why Bother?

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    1 min read

    “Still and all, why bother? Here’s my answer: Many people need desperately to receive this message: ‘I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people don’t care about them. You are not alone.’”

    – Kurt Vonnegut

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  • What’s Exciting?

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    1 min read

    “When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”

    “What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”

    “I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet.

    Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.

    – A. A. Milne

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  • We Are What We Quote

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    1 min read

    “In a real sense, we are what we quote—and what can any of us hope to be but a tiny component of that hubbub of voices distilled by books of quotations and epigrams? I have always found such volumes the most irresistible reading. They make it possible to channel-surf millenniums of cultural history, moving forward or backward at will, and plucking out whatever perfectly formed fragment turns out to be precisely what you were looking for. The endlessness of it all is enough to make your head spin, but that dizziness is arrested by the steadying compactness and solidity of the ideal quote—the one that stands there bare and isolated and unencumbered, tiny enough to be grasped all at once, yet unfathomably wide and deep.”

    – Geoffrey O’Brien

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  • Moved

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    1 min read

    “Never say that something has moved you if you are still in the same place.”

    – Jeanette Winterson

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  • Timid

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    1 min read

    “Do not be too timid & squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make, the better. What if they are a little coarse, & you may get your coat soiled or torn? What if you do fail, & get fairly rolled in the dirt once or twice? Up again, you shall never more be so afraid of a tumble.”

    – Ralph Waldo Emerson

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  • Oh, Happy

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    2 min read

    Since last autumn, when I began to make some marked changes in my inner life and schedule, I have experienced moments of pure happiness. Moments so unexpected they’ve left me giddy.

    “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.’” – Kurt Vonnegut

    Is it that the circumstances in my life have changed? Not hugely. I still have many of the same struggles (finances, business stresses, health). But I think these gems I’m enjoying are the result of simply slowing down, make space in my schedule, and allowing myself to be content. Noticing when something makes me happy. It sounds so cliche, I know. Whatever. It’s working.

    Walking down the street, earbuds on, a perfect album playing in subtle harmony to the breeze wrapping around me. Amazing.

    A fleeting exchange with the old lady jaywalking while I wait at the crosswalk:

    “You rebel!” I say.

    “I’m a wild thing,” she laughs.

    The recently discovered sweet, seductive warmth of scotch.

    Black coffee, on a quiet morning, with nowhere to be.

    The hush during a heavy snowfall.

    Words on paper written by a brilliant mind, leaving me gasping for air, heart pounding, or wiping away tears.

    Tiny, simple bits of life. So easily grasped if I am aware. How have I let myself miss them these last few years? I won’t waste much time on regrets or worry that I’ll miss more in the future. I just want to be.

    “In this story
    we sit down on Luna Bridge
    and catch snow in our cupped hands
    and music is
    coming from the houses
    or it sings inside me
    I begin to mend
    Oh happy, oh happy, the end,
    the end, the end.

    In this painting
    the whole world is navy blue
    I run home from the mailbox
    in all the dim of five o’clock
    to see you.
    Cars and trees go by me,
    you are in the yard
    and in my arms again

    Oh happy, oh happy, the end,
    the end, the end
    Happy, oh happy
    the end.”

    – The Innocence Mission

     

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  • Travel

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    1 min read

    “The reason to travel: there are inner transitions we can’t properly cement without a change of locations.”

    – Alain de Botton

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