Author Archive
Don’t worry about the past in trying to make full sense of it, or trying to use it to assume the future, trying to understand me. Your past has given you knowledge, and you can apply it without obsessing.
I am bigger than what you can understand, and far more complex the the earthly things and ways around you.
Take your lessons and move forward. Do not worry. I have never, will never, leave you nor forsake you. Everything really is okay. But you do need to do your part. Who you are now is not who you were. So let that person go. Forgive her. Leave her where she was. You are moving forward, you are new.
Keep believing. I move mountains, I move people, I move entities. I move everything. I hold time in my hands. Do not fear. Be faithful. And really do your best. Your very best.
Take heart. You are more than you have believed yourself to be. I live in you. You can do all you need to, and I will do the rest.
Do not despair. Do not try to predict everything. Just do your best. Really do it. Your best is good enough. Do not doubt. This is about to be a beautiful, amazing, fantastic, peaceful, joyful, productive season for you, for your family.
You did not ruin everything. You are not that powerful. But what you do does affect others, so be careful with what you do. Be proactive. Be prayerful. Believe. Every little effort makes a difference. Don’t get discouraged. Keep at it. Every day. You will see, you will see.
I love you, precious daughter. Have no fear. Be joyful in me.
musing
Posted on: June 20, 2011
Sometimes it hits me hard, quick and hard, what I know about people’s lives now. That I know there are children that were systematically sexually and emotionally abused by their families. Children pimped out by their mothers for drugs. Children tied up in sheds fed like dogs. These sound like news stories, but the thing about news stories is they are real. This is real. I have met these people. I have sat across from them, hugged them, driven them places in my car, laughed with them, seen their constant struggles and frustrations and disappointments and confusions. Their sadness, their underlying hurt and doubt and fear and anger. And I can’t go back and make sure that someone held them and took care of them and made them laugh and feel safe. Like children should.
Heartbreaking is not the word. It hurts my soul. It’s just there are so many ways to be lucky, to be blessed, to be wealthy. And there are so many ways to be poor. Most of us are a little of both. Rich in some things, poor in others. They don’t cancel one another out.
I just hate, really hate, what some people are robbed of. And I just really want to see us all taking care of one another. To be connected…I can’t pinpoint it right now, but it makes a difference.
Heat
Posted on: June 10, 2011
- In: Writing
- 2 Comments
It’s such a heavy hot outside sometimes that I will step out of my car and feel as if I’m going to suffocate. I take deep breaths and my chest constricts and I’m not sure if it’s heat or panic. It can’t be panic.
It’s only when I can’t breathe that I mind the heat. Otherwise, I like the sticky thickness of it. It feels essential to summer here. Without it, we wouldn’t be who we are.
Maybe we’d be sane.
The truth of everything is that sane is so subjective. We all find people lacking sanity who find themselves completely sane. Who’s to say, really?
Posted on: May 27, 2011
I’m afraid I’m going to run out of wine
I’m afraid you never read the things I write
I think I would feel free
Posted on: May 23, 2011
All the things that press on me, that press upon me, press into this: I want to be able to easily sum up for you what it was to grow up how I grew up, all it did to me, all it meant. I want to smoothly and fully explain, let you see why I made certain decisions I made, all the clockwork behind the scenes, why I did or didn’t do certain things, why I am where I am, I want to show that I know I am not where I should be, but I have a good defense for how I ended up here.
But there are always far too many words. As if I feel I bear this burden of proof and I have to pull out all the evidence of my life. It never comes out right, I can never get the whole picture into one clean scene.
So no one knows what I want them to know, what I need them to see. About who I am and who I seem. About where I was going and where I ended up. About what I learned. About why it’s so hard to move from where I am.
I just feel ashamed, I guess. I recognize my inauthenticity. I know myself. I know all these things that I can’t tell because I just can’t figure out how.
I know it would change everything if I were really who I was. I have no idea if that would be good. But I think I would feel free.
Posted on: May 21, 2011
the world is melting around me. i can not be, there are so many things that i can not be.
i read too many blogs sometimes that aren’t for me, that aren’t to people like me. they are blogs for different kinds of people and when i read them i feel completely wrong. i feel as if there are a million things wrong with me for not being able to be however it is i can’t be.
sometimes, it’s dangerous how many things we can be exposed to. sometimes instead of enriching the world, it seems to show how many ways there are to be wrong in the world. you read a comment section to a news article or blog and you see all these opinions.
as much as i love all the great things i can see, it makes me long for the time in my life when it was just me and the woods.
i have to shake the rest off.
let the world melt.
Purgatory
Posted on: May 18, 2011
Sometimes, there is just this restlessness. I don’t know what to do with it. I feel antsy and trapped. I feel like I can never really breathe, like I’m waiting for something…something to set me free. I feel like I have no place to be. I feel groundless, but not in a way that is okay.
I feel like I’m just biding my time until I can do what I’m really supposed to be doing. Nothing fits, nothing feels right, there is an unrest. I don’t know what to do with that, where to go with that. It unravels me. It makes me feel not okay with no rhyme or reason to why, or what, or how. I feel like there is something upon me that I need to shake off and I’m too apprehensive to do this, too fearful of the repercussions. Fearful maybe that I will shake the wrong thing off? Or do it the wrong way, at the wrong time? I don’t know, I just don’t feel well.
Part of me wants to crawl into bed and call in sick (from my whole entire life) but the other part of me is pushing me to keep trying to figure this out.
I’m afraid it will end with me breaking down in a parking lot somewhere.
Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do?
And I don’t know why I have to write it out, I don’t know why I have to post it. But I do. Ridiculous.
Can someone carry me?
I am here, years upon me that I’ve yet to even live
and I’m tired
just
so
weary.
Perhaps this is the only way
to get me to lay in green pastures
I’m just not sure how much I trust that
I’m just not sure
why I can’t believe
someone’s going to take care of me
perhaps it’s all the times I don’t see it, can’t feel it, all the people I see needing.
Why should I believe I won’t be left wanting?
I can’t even think, can’t even reason, can’t even feel anything about this anymore. I am just lingering on the edge of belief. Of trying. Why try when the world falls apart minute by minute? Why move at all? I’ll maybe stay here. Just a few more minutes. This world pushes me into anxiety. Into the throes of decisions I’m tired of making, tasks I’m tired of completing, hoops I just can’t get myself to jump through anymore. Aren’t I too young to feel so so old inside?Aren’t I too young to give up?
I feel done. But I can’t stop. What’s going to come of that?
Butterflies
Posted on: March 16, 2011
I don’t think I’ve seen you look at me like that before. It’s ruminating in my mind’s eye. You said something soft and quiet with that and I’m letting it lay across me, like a dozen butterflies. I am breathing gently. I don’t want to disturb this delicate balance we work out when we work it out.
________________________
You’ve got to feel the waves emanating from me. Do you let them wash over you? Do you drink them in? I think you do. I see your eyes close. I think perhaps we don’t need words. At least not here.
But the moment our bubble breaks I am full of all the millions of letters that never made their way out to you. Do you have enough to tie you over? Do I?
I make enough I suppose, I make enough.
_____________________________
Alternately, there’s that primal need, that wildness as you say. There is no right or wrong or anything beyond this need. This need is the absolute only thing that exists. It is upon this need that the whole world spins. You and I, we are happy and helpless in it. It moves us to mesh and it is only there that there is rest. It is only there that there is the peaceful satisfaction of all things being aligned as designed. It is only in that moment that I am not hungry, that I am not lonely, that I am home.
_________________________________
I believe in strings. I’m starting to believe our strings connect at either end. I believe this is beyond us as much as this is us. This is defining our definable moments without our consent. We are artists, but this is not our piece of art. We are the materials here, you and I. We are at the mercy of the constructor of this. We are one string. We can wrap around and weave into and through a million other parts of this, but I’m starting to doubt that we can really separate.
___________________________
If I gave you these words: you, alive, home,connected, promise, need, trust, safe, passion, determined, scared, hungry, only, me, forgive, try, hope, believe: would you know what I mean?
Believe, believer
Posted on: February 22, 2011
Grace is sufficient.
My grace is sufficient for you.
There are no shortcomings, nothing is uncovered. It all falls under grace, within the realms of my reach.
There is no worry when you believe.
Believe believer, believe.
My tongue is in my hand... 