I write this word but as I do so, if I was standing face to face with you, I would be most embarrassed at the length of time between posts. I write “greetings” with sincerity and apology. Again.
I am having difficulty writing with my usual ease of analogy, description and sufficient “zap.” In recent years, these past two months is the least amount of writing I have ever done. I feel inadequate to a craft in which I adore and place my aspirations.
I have lived through storms, describing them mindfully yet rather snootily as finding a quiet harbor after hurricanes or adrift in a calm sea after the most violent of thunderstorms. I have looked forward to dreams and the fulfillment of goals as one would look for rainbows and with equal amount of seriousness. I have held those lofty dreams “out there, on the horizon” as one would their own personal holy grail. I have butchered and bent any meaningful passage of any author or even the holiest of authors for my own personal justification and fortification.
It has been only after the last storm, when life quieted down and I finally allowed it to, did I realize I was no longer on the chase for my life. It was only then did I realize that although I still had dreams, survival as a goal was very nice. Yes. Yes it was.
But then I read one of those snippets of quotes which stated that “survival mode is meant for making it through the storm, not as a way of life.” The truth struck me like the sight of a dangerous, rotting frame of a second story window which I have looked at and dismissed for months.
Yesterday I saw it. Yesterday I fixed it. (Then I cried).
Weeks ago I learned after another such storm that perhaps my goal in everything I had gone through was arriving……in the middle. I think it is also called “living.” Surprised? I was absolutely dumbfounded. Just as I had walked by that window I had also survived through my life in a mode not meant for living. Sometimes people can get addicted to that type of thrill. (I had wondered). No. No, but it does have a sneaky way of becoming the comfortable chair in ones living room. And, hey, life happens. Got a storm? You live through it. You do your best. You try to smile through it all.
But when storms pass and goals are way, way, way out there, then what? I tell you, it is a lovely place I call “the middle”. And I still sound snooty about it because life now is what I have never known. Only within the past few days do I realize I can be firmly here, not clutching for dear life, but I can stand here not ignoring the past. I can stand here not discounting my future dreams. No, I am safe. My arms are strong enough to reach behind me for the past. My eyes are bright enough to look ahead.
And once more. Twice more. No matter how many times I might fail or fall, I finally figured out that my true goal all along was here….
…In the middle…
Love, Blessings and with Gratitude,
Beginnings are advertised. Endings are dreamed about – either with tears or sparkly, heavenly images of angelic goals. At least mine were.
Beginnings are difficult. I get petrified personally even to the point of inaction. I cannot function. Until this past year, post-divorce and through the most gut-wrenching situations in which I plopped myself. Of course at the time I found ample subjects upon which to project blame. And those soul-tearing episodes might continue.
Or they might not.
One thing I am learning though, is that a beginning is a certain type of fear. The attainment of goals and dreams is both satisfying and momentarily…… Heck, I have been known, if only to my most private self, to feel a bit like Wonder Woman at such times.
I recently learned I can operate a handheld circular saw. I recently learned that even though I forget keys and my toolkit, I can still survive. It might take me twice as long but there is nothing quite like embarrassing yourself even to your own self combined with a few dozen episodes of repetition to realize “Hey, I have learned.”
And those dreams of ‘getting there’. Finishing. Completion. Oh, is there anything like it? Man, give me those gold cuffs… I am W. Woman. Ms. W. Woman.
I have found though….it’s “in the middle.” Dreaded. Until a person realizes that life is okay. Is it possible my whole life has passed without giving credence to the holy land of “in the middle” which is both a desert and its own oasis?
I wrote that six days ago. In this middle ground I am finding a new kind of peace – a sense of my own truth. I wrote: My soul will never forget what I have been through, either by myown hand or others. Ultimately though even ‘by the hand of others’ is really the environment one chooses. Sometimes. I encourage everyone: If you are in danger, seek help. Get out. Prize your life and of those around you. God put us on this earth. He put your soul here. You are worthy. You have no right to inflict pain on others. You also have no right to put yourself in pain. Seek help. It might take twenty tries to ‘get it right’. I wont lie. Its horrible trying something and failing. Maybe whats worse is trying something new and not knowing if you have failed or succeeded. Because then the questions continue.
That’s the middle.
Middle is when you learn to trust the soles of your feet as you tread your path. Middle is the place I think of most of life. It is those postings and sayings about its ‘life when you are planning your life.” But it is also