img { max-width: 560px; width: expression (this.width >560 ? 560: true); }

Thursday, February 9, 2012

who am i now?

Who am I now? Who was I supposed to be? Would I even recognize myself anymore?

Instead I am stuck.

Stuck, frustrated in this new mind, this new psyche…trying to get comfortable. Like 
trying to fit into an old pair of pants I’ve outgrown, or someone else’s shoes.

Trying to understand my place in the world, the place I am not sure I am supposed to be in. I honestly didn’t prepare to be in it. I claimed it, a distant hope, but what do I do now that I’m still here?

Angry, out of place, irritable.

Lost, lonely, confused.

Grateful, yes, but sometimes not as much as I should be. And then the guilt comes like a punch to the stomach, a slap to the back of the head, a hard shake to the shoulders. “Wake up!” “Look around!” “Be grateful and quit complaining!” And the worst, “How dare you?” All of these in my own voice, my own finger pointing at me, a disapproving look, frowning, and ashamed.

No wonder I can’t sleep.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

the in-between

It’s been days of hard work, weeks after weeks really. Sometimes its hard to see the point. Is this what life is about? Is this what I’m surviving for? The answer never comes. It’s in those in-between moments, when life quiets briefly…sort of the flat water between the ripples when the thought comes to me. Life can be humming along, seemingly with a power of its own, headed toward an unknown destination. And then the in-between moment arises. A pause between breath and I am reminded of the question: Is this where I want to be?

Of course the question assumes I have any control in the direction at all.

Instead I think I float like a flower petal on the current: sometimes calmly drifting on the spreading surface, sometimes racing off on agitated waves,…only to find myself stuck up on the shore of some unknown place or, worse, right back where i started. Life is like that to me, a flowing stream of water, a pool; its direction determined only by the objects in its path or the wind upon its surface, or the power of those diving in. I have to remind myself to kick and swim, not with indirection but with purpose. To relax and breathe in rhythm with my strokes and find a balance…to enjoy the swim, enjoy the stroke, enjoy the breath and know I am living, without pause.

Evidence of a Life