My tongue is in my hand…

Archive for September 2011

I am under-stimulated today. So I am restless. This is probably worse than being over-stimulated and exhausted. It breeds a tiny bit of anxiety, like it is a calm before a storm. But not a good, happy calm. A weird one. And I’m trying to re-frame it, but I’m not doing a good job at convincing myself…

Something else odd. We actually had good luck. Jason specifically. He won a 46 inch plasma tv in a work raffle! What!?! I KNOW! Crazy!

Hm. Perhaps things are taking their turn for the better. Actually, they are. I believe that. I BELIEVE THAT.

In the words of a song I love right now “Everything is about to change, there’s gonna be brighter days” That’s right, speaking it into being, right here, believing.

So, I’ll just rest. I’ll just lay in the weird quiet and take it in and own it a bit. Yes, I will.

Sometimes, I think about the blessings I have and I don’t understand. Material things that I don’t necessarily want or need. And then there are these other intangible things that I do want or need. And I feel guilty because I still have so much more than so many others. And I feel sad because I would give up so much to just have the things I really want.

I feel like I should be happy with what I have and do something good and cherish it all, because they are certain blessings.

And I feel like I should be working towards being the person who has what they really want. I have to keep the faith. I have to fake it til I make it, I suppose.

And I have this fear, underneath these other things…that the thing I crave the most is something I am not ready for, something I would mess up if I had it…

so I’m thinking, I should work towards keeping it, even though I don’t have it…I have to believe in the timing, the cosmic timing of it.

I am hungry and tired. Why do I feel that way so much?

My perspective is off this weekend. I feel this weird sort of feeling. I need someone to bounce it off of. I need that thing I always need. I just want to know that everything’s okay.

I guess I’ll just believe it is.

Sometimes, that means moving through the motions of a life, of a day, with my mind and heart far away. As if all of this life is just moonlighting for the real deal that seems just right beyond my grasp, that I get the smallest taste of every once in a while. (the sweetest taste. my most favorite thing. a moment that makes everything else fade away and…it’s too much to write even…)

And regret…regret is useless but tempting. As if it could change anything. Particularly anything a decade old. All I can do is trust this road that has managed to…to allow me some hope and prepare myself for the life I want…there must be a purpose in the blessings, the needs, the moments, the struggle. There’s got to be a purpose in the struggle.

I’m all stirred up and haven’t been able to pour it into anything yet (or onto anyone yet).

 

Trust

Posted on: September 8, 2011

You need to trust yourself. Your rhythm. Your instinct. Trust your hesitation. Trust your exuberance. Quiet yourself and listen. Listen. All the answers are right there. The answers need you to trust them The answers need you to have faith in the process. To have faith in the cosmic timing of everything. To have faith in the ability of love. Not just a lover’s love, but love.

To stop biting your tongue, to be honest, does not have to be harsh or angry or defensive, it just has to be confident. It requires you to trust yourself, to trust your knowledge and your needs. To trust your questions.

Trust. Breathe.

If your voice within says wait, then wait. If your voice within says go, then go. And just do this, just do all this one step at a time, one moment at a time.

And trust, trust the path your voice is laying out before you.

Be gracious, be kind, be thoughtful in your movements. Be ready for resistance. And be ready to see the right doors open up just in time.

Trust, child, trust.

You can do amazing things, the things you were made for. You just have to trust.

I miss you. I miss you furiously. I miss you with a quickness that leaves me gasping for air.

I am most alive, I am home, with you. I can not stop that. I can not change that. It has not taken it upon itself to change that. I am perhaps completely unsafe there, but it is there that I rest, and just the briefest rest sparks within me the movement, the belief, the need.

(the need to love you. and with that, the tentative hope that you may love me, that you may need to love me)

There are so, so many words to say. I don’t say them. I…I just…I’m just…waiting.

This tests my faith like nothing else. To leave this. To let it be. To let it become what it will. To let time take this and to just love as honestly as I can, as quietly as I can, as steadfastly as I can.

It is the quietly part that gets me.

To love you quietly pushes me to the brink of madness.

And to writing.

(which is at times all the same, right?)

I am here, loving you still, like I always have, it seems, the exact same way I’ve always had to, quietly…roaring within, like the waves of this crash upon themselves within me, in the privacy of my quiet.

To trust this is possibly the very hardest thing. Because it can get very dark. It can get very silent. It can get very chaotic. It can deplete me. It can worry me. It can dampen my resolve to see this through.

Yet, still, I don’t believe I have a choice. This is it’s own beast. It’s own force of nature. It’s own storyline.

I feel like all the answers are wrapped up in this. That the secret truths this holds are all the ones I am seeking. I glance upon myself and know I am still, even now, not enough to take this on. It is an unripe fruit. Or I am. It gets foggy.

To love you quietly. Can you hear me?