Late Evening Thoughts

As I lay in bed last night, I whispered to Tim, “When you think about dying, doesn’t it seem strange that we still spend every day just waiting for time to pass? For the day to be over?”

This thought is lingering with me today. Not that I hate my job, or the people I work with or despise what I do, but I’m by no means excited by what I do each day. And I do spend the day watching the clock, breathing for it to be 4:30. And yet, I am horrified at how quickly my life is flying by me. I know that before I know it, I will have kids, grandkids, retire, get aches. I make my life a contradiction! I resent the days passing slowly and then complain that the year is already over. What’s the solution to this madness?

Part of me thinks that this is part of the human plight. To age. To work. And these aren’t necessarily bad things, but our death looms ever closer to us and threatens to steal the time and dreams of what could have been.

And part of me thinks these sad feelings are my own fault. I should take control of my life! I should pursue my dreams and do things that I love. Things that make me feel alive!

I think this is the conclusion I will rest in for now (heaven forbid I ever commit to anything): we are responsible to pursue and invest in things that make us who we are, that make us feel alive and excited to live. But we must also be emotionally prepared for the times that life intervenes and prevents us from doing what we would choose. Sometimes we must work. Sometimes we must make the best of our circumstances.

JRM

Disagree? What about the people who must spend every moment looking for food and have no time even to know what makes them feel alive? Only time to stay alive.

Blogging through Grief

Honestly, it may be better for the few of you who read this blog, to just catch up with me in a few months, years, ? when I'm not processing so many dark and heavy feelings. I have to say though, taking a few moments every few weeks or so has been really helpful for me. There is some feeling of community in sharing your thoughts. Anywhoo....

Tim and I went to San Luis Obispo this last weekend for a belated Turkey Day visit. It was really nice. We got to play with baby Grace and spend some good ole fashioned quality time together. Josh and Kat had rented out their home, so all of us kids bunked up at the parents' house. Made for a full (but very fun) weekend!

On Sunday, Tim and I joined the family at his dad's church. Tom didn't preach but the old feeling of attending a family church came back. I remembered how church used to feel like family. How it used to be such a safe place. A place I not only met with God, but knew I was supported. A place that was so much my extended family. This was my dad's church for me all growing up. That small church in Maple Valley, WA raised me right alongside my parents.

As I stood in that building last Sunday, however, all I could hear was a voice asking Why am I not good enough for this? Why don't I belong here? What was so wrong with me that I had to get kicked out? And that was about it for me for the service. I lost it. Completely. Tim's mom wrapped her arms around me and held me the way only mom's can. And I knew she was praying for me and my heart. My hurt.

It's so easy to say to myself and to "know" that it had nothing to do with me (kind of). That there's nothing wrong with me. But on some level, I do believe it. My aching heart believes that in their eyes, there was something wrong with me. I didn't fit with them. That rescue boat rescued me right overboard. And I suppose that's what hurts still. I know that there's nothing wrong with me per se. But it hurts that they think that there is. It's funny to me how much this whole situation has been like a death, like a break up, like a divorce, a slap in the face, a humiliation.

And not to be a scrooge, but I find myself having a hard time with the holidays this year. I tried to psyche myself up for it earlier (see previous post), but for some reason it's not hanging with me. I don't know if it's not having a plan for where we're going, the fallish weather, being stressed/excited about grad school or just not having the emotional energy and gumption to fall in love with Christmas this year. For someone who usually resembles "Buddy" in my excitement for the holidays, it is a strange and surreal feeling. And while I am tenderly hoping that my spirit will come into itself still this season, I think I'm allowing myself to just be a bit of a grinch. Not a lot, just a little :)