I think that when I divorced, I abandoned a role. Not only the role of "husband," and "friend," but also my job title. Along with those roles, I have walked away from all the goals and dreams expected of those roles. I have walked from a life similar to those around me into a whole new world.
Outwardly, my life is more "normal" than it was before. An oddity of my marriage was that we often lived apart, often in different states. Even when we were in the same state, we were often in different cities. I figured it out once: we were physically apart more than we were together. It was more typical that I slept in my bed alone than we shared it. Oddly, now that I'm divorced, I spend more time with my full family than I did in the years we were married. The rest of my life looks more "normal," too. For the first time in my life, I can easily pay my rent, my utilities, and my credit card bill. This, I say to myself, is what it's supposed to be like. After moving around the country for years, I have, for the first time in much more than a decade, gotten all my paperwork into one location: my taxes, my drivers' license, my car's registration, even my voter's registration is all where I live. I'm fully legal. I think the last time I could say that was 1997!
I have a new role: Just Me. Now that it's Just Me, I am at a total loss as to what Just Me wants! I stumble onto new roles, and I pause and ask, "Is this what I want, or what others have told me I want?" It's not that I will turn something down just because others think I should want it. I just want to be sure that it is Just Me who's doing the wanting!
What does Just Me want? I'm sure there's something that I'm not seeing, but I really can't guess what it is. This makes me feel even more odd and different. I may be the only person I know who isn't dreaming of something I don't have. I've been listening to The Secret on CD, and I'm all for doing the things they suggest, but have the problem of not knowing where to aim this secret power. More money? OK, why not, but I have sufficient abundance for my modest needs. A great big house or an expensive luxury car? Um, no, those are things for which Just Me has neither need nor desire. Power? What the heck would I do with power? Just Me only wants power over himself and his own life, thanks. Romance? OK, now that one gives me pause. Yes, I want the love of my life, but I'm a LOT too distrustful to invite that risk into my life.
Very curious. The thing I most want in my life is Just Me, and I've had that all along. I need a lesson in wanting and dreaming.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Latest trips through the fog
It's been while since I've blogged... my apologies it you have been a reader. It's been one of those intervals of nothing happening and yet everything being different.
The lesson from my Christmas trip has stuck with me, for which I thank the Universe. The past is past. It can only cause pain to the extent that I give it life. Things have happened to challenge my learning, but I am blessed in that the lesson remains in my heart.
The greatest challenge, in retrospect, was my ex's response to my Christmas card. OK, sending a Christmas card was tempting the fates, but her response was spectacular. I had written my best wishes, and acknowledged that it was more than passing strange. Her response was that, yes, it was strange, but not as strange as sending flowers. However, she added, it would be alright for me to send flowers to her on an upcoming event in her life. My reaction was laughter, and sending her a note saying that I felt sending her flowers would be inappropriate. In the words of a friend of a friend, I thank you for the gift of closure.
Other events have further clarified my new state of mind. A female friend, towards who I had been attracted, hit the jackpot, so to speak. She's living with a man with whom she is in love. I was given another gift of closure.
In the meantime, I have seized the opportunity to take trip to Egypt early this summer. I did not seek the chance to make this trip, and I had second thoughts about it. It's an expensive trip, and I am not a wealthy person. But I discovered something a month ago: in late summer, 2006, I wrote a list of things I wanted to have happen. On that list, I found the line, "Visit Europe and Egypt." I had totally forgotten about that line. And yet, here I am. Last year, I visited Italy. This year, I visit Egypt.
It may be because of these events that my work has been far less traumatic than it was last fall. There are still tasks that I must force myself to do, and days when I struggle to face the office. Compared to last fall, though, this is a walk in the park.
I don't think I have yet seen the end of the changes happening in me. My struggle to balance Spirit and the world is eased, but still there. I still ask how I can talk about my job, when I've met Beings from the Other. I still feel their presence, but not as intensely. I still look at my work, and ask myself why I waste my time, other than for the paycheck.
If I were to win the lottery tomorrow, and if money were not an issue, what would I do? Oh, I'd do what many other shallow people would do: celebrate, buy some stupid stuff, and sleep a lot. But eventually I'd want to do something. What would it be? It would not be the things I do today; I would walk away from this job without so much as a look over my shoulder.
I would become a healer. I don't mean an MD; I have no interest in becoming an MD, even if I could get into medical school - which is doubtful. I don't consider what MDs do as healing. Healing is something deeper. Even if the disease isn't cured, healing can occur.
There are times when it is destructive to isolate a person from the pain which they have made in their lives. It is there for a reason. In my case, it was to spur me to my lessons. I could have clocked the pain with antidepressants, but if I had, I'd never have learned what I needed to. The point of life isn't to avoid pain, but to learn. Sometimes, the two work together.
The lesson from my Christmas trip has stuck with me, for which I thank the Universe. The past is past. It can only cause pain to the extent that I give it life. Things have happened to challenge my learning, but I am blessed in that the lesson remains in my heart.
The greatest challenge, in retrospect, was my ex's response to my Christmas card. OK, sending a Christmas card was tempting the fates, but her response was spectacular. I had written my best wishes, and acknowledged that it was more than passing strange. Her response was that, yes, it was strange, but not as strange as sending flowers. However, she added, it would be alright for me to send flowers to her on an upcoming event in her life. My reaction was laughter, and sending her a note saying that I felt sending her flowers would be inappropriate. In the words of a friend of a friend, I thank you for the gift of closure.
Other events have further clarified my new state of mind. A female friend, towards who I had been attracted, hit the jackpot, so to speak. She's living with a man with whom she is in love. I was given another gift of closure.
In the meantime, I have seized the opportunity to take trip to Egypt early this summer. I did not seek the chance to make this trip, and I had second thoughts about it. It's an expensive trip, and I am not a wealthy person. But I discovered something a month ago: in late summer, 2006, I wrote a list of things I wanted to have happen. On that list, I found the line, "Visit Europe and Egypt." I had totally forgotten about that line. And yet, here I am. Last year, I visited Italy. This year, I visit Egypt.
It may be because of these events that my work has been far less traumatic than it was last fall. There are still tasks that I must force myself to do, and days when I struggle to face the office. Compared to last fall, though, this is a walk in the park.
I don't think I have yet seen the end of the changes happening in me. My struggle to balance Spirit and the world is eased, but still there. I still ask how I can talk about my job, when I've met Beings from the Other. I still feel their presence, but not as intensely. I still look at my work, and ask myself why I waste my time, other than for the paycheck.
If I were to win the lottery tomorrow, and if money were not an issue, what would I do? Oh, I'd do what many other shallow people would do: celebrate, buy some stupid stuff, and sleep a lot. But eventually I'd want to do something. What would it be? It would not be the things I do today; I would walk away from this job without so much as a look over my shoulder.
I would become a healer. I don't mean an MD; I have no interest in becoming an MD, even if I could get into medical school - which is doubtful. I don't consider what MDs do as healing. Healing is something deeper. Even if the disease isn't cured, healing can occur.
There are times when it is destructive to isolate a person from the pain which they have made in their lives. It is there for a reason. In my case, it was to spur me to my lessons. I could have clocked the pain with antidepressants, but if I had, I'd never have learned what I needed to. The point of life isn't to avoid pain, but to learn. Sometimes, the two work together.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
A New Year
This is a good year, I can feel it. Or perhaps it's a good year, because I declare it. In the first few days of this month, I felt it, I declared it, and it is happening. I don't know how much I believe the whole idea of intention driving your reality, but I've seen it enough that I cannot dismiss it out of hand. Wanting, though, is not the same thing as intention. Wanting is another way to play victim. Intention is declaring that which you want as yours.
So, what's making it a good year so far? Little things, really, are the difference. I had an interesting exchange of emails with my ex. They were neither good nor bad, really, just a repeat of things already said. Somehow, though, this was different. It was closure. A friend once told the story of the final straw between her and on organization, for which she said, "Thank you for the gift of closure." These emails were that for me. Unlike other exchanges, I didn't get angry this time. I reacted, yes, but the feelings were so fleeting that I was both surprised and relieved. So thank you, the woman to whom I was so deeply connected, for the gift of closure.
Associated with this are the feelings remaining from the Christmas visit to my brother's home. I got a lot from my short time there. I realized that I am released from the landscape of my childhood. Talking to my brother, I realized that he was totally unaware of the abuse that my sister and I went through at the hands of another. I came to understand that he could not understand the impact that those events had upon us if he doesn't know, and that I had no desire to educate him. I listened to Dwayne Dyer on the drive, and he gave me a gift when he pointed out the only power my memories have is the power I give them. Now, I had to recognize them in order to take the power back that I had given them, but after that I claim the power back.
One consequence of the closer with my ex and claiming my power back is that I have started feeling Future. I can't explain how I was feeling other than to say that I realized that I had no future. When people asked where I'd be in a year or what I wanted to be doing, I had no answer. With the release, I feel future again. As for what I'll be doing, I don't have a very specific answer yet, but I can tell you that I'll be doing it for someone I have neglected for far too long: me.
What has this to do with Spirit? Everything! With the change has come much more balance. I am taking better care of me, which is somehow making me more interested in participating with the rest of the world, including the world of work. I am also doing Reiki more, and doing more reading about Reiki. For me, being trained in Reiki (or anything else) is just the start. Being attuned as a Master was a milestone, but it is a milestone along a long road.
With the new Future, a lot of ideas are entering my mind, but they are ideas I cannot immediately act upon. My mission for the next few months is to manifest the long ideas, and to find short-term ideas that I can act upon now. It begins by taking Reiki out on the road. I've only given anyone Reiki in situations where it was either a group (God love Reikishares!) or spontaneous. I'm now planning to do it. My first outing is a friend in need. Being able to give Reiki to a friend is a wonderful feeling, a type of gift unlike any other.
So, what's making it a good year so far? Little things, really, are the difference. I had an interesting exchange of emails with my ex. They were neither good nor bad, really, just a repeat of things already said. Somehow, though, this was different. It was closure. A friend once told the story of the final straw between her and on organization, for which she said, "Thank you for the gift of closure." These emails were that for me. Unlike other exchanges, I didn't get angry this time. I reacted, yes, but the feelings were so fleeting that I was both surprised and relieved. So thank you, the woman to whom I was so deeply connected, for the gift of closure.
Associated with this are the feelings remaining from the Christmas visit to my brother's home. I got a lot from my short time there. I realized that I am released from the landscape of my childhood. Talking to my brother, I realized that he was totally unaware of the abuse that my sister and I went through at the hands of another. I came to understand that he could not understand the impact that those events had upon us if he doesn't know, and that I had no desire to educate him. I listened to Dwayne Dyer on the drive, and he gave me a gift when he pointed out the only power my memories have is the power I give them. Now, I had to recognize them in order to take the power back that I had given them, but after that I claim the power back.
One consequence of the closer with my ex and claiming my power back is that I have started feeling Future. I can't explain how I was feeling other than to say that I realized that I had no future. When people asked where I'd be in a year or what I wanted to be doing, I had no answer. With the release, I feel future again. As for what I'll be doing, I don't have a very specific answer yet, but I can tell you that I'll be doing it for someone I have neglected for far too long: me.
What has this to do with Spirit? Everything! With the change has come much more balance. I am taking better care of me, which is somehow making me more interested in participating with the rest of the world, including the world of work. I am also doing Reiki more, and doing more reading about Reiki. For me, being trained in Reiki (or anything else) is just the start. Being attuned as a Master was a milestone, but it is a milestone along a long road.
With the new Future, a lot of ideas are entering my mind, but they are ideas I cannot immediately act upon. My mission for the next few months is to manifest the long ideas, and to find short-term ideas that I can act upon now. It begins by taking Reiki out on the road. I've only given anyone Reiki in situations where it was either a group (God love Reikishares!) or spontaneous. I'm now planning to do it. My first outing is a friend in need. Being able to give Reiki to a friend is a wonderful feeling, a type of gift unlike any other.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Family and Christmas
Amidst all the searching and struggling I've been doing of late has come the Christmas Holidays. I have a love-hate relationship with the holidays. I love my siblings (my parents have passed), yet it is sometimes difficult to be with them. They are largely unaware the interests and experiences I recount in these posts, and I have not found a way to discuss it with them. This leaves a hole in our relationship, I admit, but I find the hole much easier to endure than I could possibly handle the slightest look of disappointment from them. My siblings are the salt-of-the-Earth type, and successful at their careers. How does one talk about Reiki energy with them? I have not yet discovered the words. Still, the love is there. It isn't hidden, if you speak the family's language.
So it is with some nervousness that I make the trip home. It has always been worth the day of travel each way, and I have always made the return trip happier than I was. This trip was no different in that regard, but the trip was different. After a day or two getting reacquinted, I took stock of the changes to my brother's home. I remember when he bought it, and helped with the earliest changes. He is a farmer, and by "home," I mean anything and everything in the farmyard, and it has changed beyond recognition. Nearly all the old wood buildings are gone, either by gravity or by design, replaced by much more useful buildings of steel and fiberglass. He has successfully transformed a neglected, obsolete operation into a modern, efficient one. At the same time, my memories are gone. It is almost as if part of my life has been removed.
With time in my family comes time for conversation. After catching up on the actions of the friends who I barely remember and events of the local world, we talk about what really matters: each other. It is a family tradition that these talks take place at the last possible moments, as if we delay it until there is no choice lest the chance be lost. In these talks, we learn more about our lives and histories than we'd ever imagined. Being the youngest, I always hope to learn about the spaces where my mind has build blinds, but the reverse is usually the case. I'm mystified by this, because my siblings were there and older, more mature, and presumably would have more accurate memories.
Enough years have passed since my youth that the next generation (my neices) are all in their 20s. One is pregnant, another engaged, and even the youngest is well into her college education. They are a startling group in their intelligence, and yet are each so very different in their personalities. My favorite is the one who has faced far more challenges than the others. As is often the case, the one who has taken the most hard knocks is the deepest. I am biased, of couse, but that is largely because she has given me the most heartfelt love, in a language that none in the family but she and I speak.
I am truly blessed by this family. I so want to tell them of my life now, and yet do not know how. I realize, though, that the conversation must come soon. The struggles about my career over the last year are clearly leading me away from it. I don't pretend to know what's coming in 2008, and I have proven my ability to predict my own future has been proven to be absolutely horrible. Yet, this cannot continue. I am good at parts of my job; other parts tear at my soul. I am paid well for it, but the price isn't worth the cost. This must change, which promises to make me even more nervous on next year's Christmas trip.
PS: I didn't tell them of the woman with them. She asked me not to. She was enjoying the holiday, as she loves having family around, even if it isn't her family.
So it is with some nervousness that I make the trip home. It has always been worth the day of travel each way, and I have always made the return trip happier than I was. This trip was no different in that regard, but the trip was different. After a day or two getting reacquinted, I took stock of the changes to my brother's home. I remember when he bought it, and helped with the earliest changes. He is a farmer, and by "home," I mean anything and everything in the farmyard, and it has changed beyond recognition. Nearly all the old wood buildings are gone, either by gravity or by design, replaced by much more useful buildings of steel and fiberglass. He has successfully transformed a neglected, obsolete operation into a modern, efficient one. At the same time, my memories are gone. It is almost as if part of my life has been removed.
With time in my family comes time for conversation. After catching up on the actions of the friends who I barely remember and events of the local world, we talk about what really matters: each other. It is a family tradition that these talks take place at the last possible moments, as if we delay it until there is no choice lest the chance be lost. In these talks, we learn more about our lives and histories than we'd ever imagined. Being the youngest, I always hope to learn about the spaces where my mind has build blinds, but the reverse is usually the case. I'm mystified by this, because my siblings were there and older, more mature, and presumably would have more accurate memories.
Enough years have passed since my youth that the next generation (my neices) are all in their 20s. One is pregnant, another engaged, and even the youngest is well into her college education. They are a startling group in their intelligence, and yet are each so very different in their personalities. My favorite is the one who has faced far more challenges than the others. As is often the case, the one who has taken the most hard knocks is the deepest. I am biased, of couse, but that is largely because she has given me the most heartfelt love, in a language that none in the family but she and I speak.
I am truly blessed by this family. I so want to tell them of my life now, and yet do not know how. I realize, though, that the conversation must come soon. The struggles about my career over the last year are clearly leading me away from it. I don't pretend to know what's coming in 2008, and I have proven my ability to predict my own future has been proven to be absolutely horrible. Yet, this cannot continue. I am good at parts of my job; other parts tear at my soul. I am paid well for it, but the price isn't worth the cost. This must change, which promises to make me even more nervous on next year's Christmas trip.
PS: I didn't tell them of the woman with them. She asked me not to. She was enjoying the holiday, as she loves having family around, even if it isn't her family.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Seeking balance
As I've said, I've been struggling. I realized that I'm seeking a balance between the mundane world in which I must walk, and the Spirit which keeps me alive. The past few months have been hard, very hard. It hasn't helped that the people around me have been having their problems as well. One friend is in a bizarre relationship situation, another has been going through her own spiritual struggle, one has financial problems well beyond my experience, and yet another has been going through physical problems. None of these are my problems, really, but all of them have affected me.
I've been called (accused of being) a chameleon, taking on the characters of my surroundings. I wish I had a convincing argument of how that's not true. In my self-charitable moments, I like to think of it as being sensitive. OK, maybe more delusional rather than charitable. But it is true that I have always had the role of being the not-a-problem person, of being the one you could always count on to be able to take care of themselves. That was one of my most important roles as a child, and the one which garnered me the most praise. Never mind accomplishments, and I had more than my fair share, I was just supposed to be the one that needed no attention. There were plenty of times when I needed a lot of attention, though. When I tell people of the events of my childhood, their reactions range from shock to disbelief to pity. (Hold the pity, thank you.) But somehow, I survived without becoming a sociopath or criminal. Not all can say that. Anyway, the not-a-problem person doesn't do that kind of thing.
When I stumbled upon Other, I was so excited. One reason is that I wasn't being forgotten, after all. There is a reality outside this reality in which I matter. It was like coming home, only better, since I really have no home to which I can return. It was the unasked for hug, the smile when you walk in a room, the sense that I was truly welcome. This reality, on the other hand, has no such welcome for me. At best, I am a resource for a floor to sleep on, a washing machine, a small loan, or a high-speed Internet connection. I provide resources because I care, yes, but also because without the resource, I expect that I'd never see these people. I get hugs when I hug someone else. I get smiles when I listen to their stories. A cynical person would say I'm being used, and that I'm a doormat. I'm just trying to survive.
I still don't like this reality, but I have to live in it. My love of the Other reality is like a drug, providing me with feelings that I do not get from this reality. A starving man eats what's before him, and doesn't fuss about it. In the morning I awake in this reality and have to go to work. If I could walk on the Other side and still live in this one, I would. Instead, I need to find a way to hold that inside me while still functioning in this mess you people all seem to enjoy. Guys, you're nuts.
My balance at the moment is weighted towards this reality, and not feeling. As I'm wandering through this mist, my feet are on solid ground. At the same time, I know that the Other side is right over… there.
I've been called (accused of being) a chameleon, taking on the characters of my surroundings. I wish I had a convincing argument of how that's not true. In my self-charitable moments, I like to think of it as being sensitive. OK, maybe more delusional rather than charitable. But it is true that I have always had the role of being the not-a-problem person, of being the one you could always count on to be able to take care of themselves. That was one of my most important roles as a child, and the one which garnered me the most praise. Never mind accomplishments, and I had more than my fair share, I was just supposed to be the one that needed no attention. There were plenty of times when I needed a lot of attention, though. When I tell people of the events of my childhood, their reactions range from shock to disbelief to pity. (Hold the pity, thank you.) But somehow, I survived without becoming a sociopath or criminal. Not all can say that. Anyway, the not-a-problem person doesn't do that kind of thing.
When I stumbled upon Other, I was so excited. One reason is that I wasn't being forgotten, after all. There is a reality outside this reality in which I matter. It was like coming home, only better, since I really have no home to which I can return. It was the unasked for hug, the smile when you walk in a room, the sense that I was truly welcome. This reality, on the other hand, has no such welcome for me. At best, I am a resource for a floor to sleep on, a washing machine, a small loan, or a high-speed Internet connection. I provide resources because I care, yes, but also because without the resource, I expect that I'd never see these people. I get hugs when I hug someone else. I get smiles when I listen to their stories. A cynical person would say I'm being used, and that I'm a doormat. I'm just trying to survive.
I still don't like this reality, but I have to live in it. My love of the Other reality is like a drug, providing me with feelings that I do not get from this reality. A starving man eats what's before him, and doesn't fuss about it. In the morning I awake in this reality and have to go to work. If I could walk on the Other side and still live in this one, I would. Instead, I need to find a way to hold that inside me while still functioning in this mess you people all seem to enjoy. Guys, you're nuts.
My balance at the moment is weighted towards this reality, and not feeling. As I'm wandering through this mist, my feet are on solid ground. At the same time, I know that the Other side is right over… there.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
The voice that spoke
When I received my Reiki Master’s attunement, I reacted strongly. That’s not surprising. People react in many different ways, some mild, some strong. The Master who attuned me tells me that when it was done, I looked at her and said, “You broke me,” fell to the floor and cried. I don’t remember it that way. I remember saying “I’m OK,” and crying. It may be a simple matter of being misunderstood. I don’t think so. I think I intended my voice to say one thing, but instead it spoke Truth. It was my voice, driven by my lungs and issued by my vocal cords, but it came from somewhere else. That kind of thing happens with attunements.
I have gotten to the point where my stomach clenches and aches when I walk into my job. I feel it when I even think about the work. Why would I be getting sick over it now? I’ve had the job for years, and never felt this way. The job has changed, but I have changed more. The job has gotten smaller, and I have grown in new directions. That world is now alien to me; the one who broke could work in that world. The one I have become cannot.
The broken one is the person I had been. The act of being attuned to the level of Reiki Master was a conscious, public pursuit of change. At that moment, my prayer of changing and growing had been answered. There are consequences to every action, and the consequence of becoming a new person is that I cannot live the old person’s life.
The first thing I must do is bury the broken one.
I have gotten to the point where my stomach clenches and aches when I walk into my job. I feel it when I even think about the work. Why would I be getting sick over it now? I’ve had the job for years, and never felt this way. The job has changed, but I have changed more. The job has gotten smaller, and I have grown in new directions. That world is now alien to me; the one who broke could work in that world. The one I have become cannot.
The broken one is the person I had been. The act of being attuned to the level of Reiki Master was a conscious, public pursuit of change. At that moment, my prayer of changing and growing had been answered. There are consequences to every action, and the consequence of becoming a new person is that I cannot live the old person’s life.
The first thing I must do is bury the broken one.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Struggling here
I had a horrible realization this past week. I don’t know that it’s actually relevant, but I don’t know that it isn’t. In any case, this is what’s on my mind: I lost my future.
I know exactly where I lost it. Like many who are on this path, I didn’t go with conscious intention. I was kicked onto it by events in my personal life. I made huge changes in my day-to-day life so that I might be with the woman I loved. I left my job, left my home, and moved halfway across the country to live with her. Within two weeks of the move, the relationship ended, and it ended ugly. The details aren’t important, but I had closed out one life for a new one, only to find the new one did not exist. I’d made a new future for myself, only to see it killed.
I was very lucky in landing on my feet, financially, and I made these incredible discoveries about things I hadn’t thought were possible. I discovered a new continent, and that’s wonderful. The question is, how do I get up in the morning and live in this new world? And I have no idea.
A friend is going through something that is vaguely similar. She’s in love with a man with whom she cannot have a real relationship. She sees him, talks to him, even gets a little more intimate with him – but she just can’t have a future with him. It’s temporary for reasons she can’t control. There is no future in it.
The similarity is that it is temporary. It’s hard to enjoy things that are so clearly going to be gone in the near future. It’s hard to justify buying a couch, because in the background is the awareness that I’ll have to move it soon. Buying clothes is a problem, because I don’t know what I’ll be wearing for work in a year. Will the clothes I buy because I love them be anything I can wear in my next job? Will the couch I love fit in my next home? If I feed my interest in bicycling or hiking or driving, will I have to give it up because the next town I live in isn’t bicycle- or hiking- or driving-friendly?
I’ve learned from harsh experience that things I love can be taken from me. There is only one cure for this that I know of: hope. What do I dare hope for?
I know exactly where I lost it. Like many who are on this path, I didn’t go with conscious intention. I was kicked onto it by events in my personal life. I made huge changes in my day-to-day life so that I might be with the woman I loved. I left my job, left my home, and moved halfway across the country to live with her. Within two weeks of the move, the relationship ended, and it ended ugly. The details aren’t important, but I had closed out one life for a new one, only to find the new one did not exist. I’d made a new future for myself, only to see it killed.
I was very lucky in landing on my feet, financially, and I made these incredible discoveries about things I hadn’t thought were possible. I discovered a new continent, and that’s wonderful. The question is, how do I get up in the morning and live in this new world? And I have no idea.
A friend is going through something that is vaguely similar. She’s in love with a man with whom she cannot have a real relationship. She sees him, talks to him, even gets a little more intimate with him – but she just can’t have a future with him. It’s temporary for reasons she can’t control. There is no future in it.
The similarity is that it is temporary. It’s hard to enjoy things that are so clearly going to be gone in the near future. It’s hard to justify buying a couch, because in the background is the awareness that I’ll have to move it soon. Buying clothes is a problem, because I don’t know what I’ll be wearing for work in a year. Will the clothes I buy because I love them be anything I can wear in my next job? Will the couch I love fit in my next home? If I feed my interest in bicycling or hiking or driving, will I have to give it up because the next town I live in isn’t bicycle- or hiking- or driving-friendly?
I’ve learned from harsh experience that things I love can be taken from me. There is only one cure for this that I know of: hope. What do I dare hope for?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
