Awaking with gentle sunshine on my face, and without that sense of morning exhaustion that I am so used to these days; I feel good about today. I need a big, fat cup of coffee in a minute. And I think one of my friends wanted to work out this morning. But I need to take a moment, while I have a moment, and enjoy the sunshine and the feeling that I finally rested enough to enjoy the day and live it well.
I think life is just about to get better... I can feel it right now, in my half-conscious state, and underneath all my sleepiness I am excited about the change. I have been coming dangerously close to settling in to mediocre. But God and I have a deal about that... I've promised to get my lazy butt up and keep moving whenever I notice I may be settling for less, and He says He's got something better for me if I just don't give up. I know we can't really make deals with God that way, because you can't earn anything on your own strength, but I'm telling you, this one works! Its like tithe, Man. Miracles happen.
I even got annoyed last week, when I was just reading random verses in the Bible and I came across the one that says: "Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due time you will reap..." But I AM weary!! I cried, I can't help it!!! I have grow quite weary, actually. That is a perfect description of how I have felt of late. But God, more than anyone, knows that I am human and knows my limits and my potential and knows (Lord, help me in my unbelief) what He is doing. Right? Because if that isn't true, then I'm wasting my time with another "god" who isn't really God, and I don't want to go back there.
I want, very much, to move forward in life. And yet, in "growing up," I am so afraid of losing that childlike faith in me. I have seen it fade as I move towards accepting the "real world," and while it is true that I am growing up and I want to be responsible, does that mean that I have to lose my heart in the process? Isn't that what's killing the writer in me? Because, after all, this isn't exactly quality literature, folks. It's okay... I know already. :) I'm just doing the only thing I know to do, and that's to keep writing no matter what...
But how long has it been since I really, honestly believed? How long since I thought I saw a gnome in the grass or "knew" there was pirate treasure buried in the sand beneath my toes? Am I growing cynical? Calloused? I feel torn between two worlds and I can't keep my foot inside both of them. I don't know how. So do I have to just pick one? But I can't bear to lose the one I'll have to lose if I choose "reality." I am just not convinced that that's what's really real...
Sometimes I sort through my own thoughts by writing them down, and that's what this has turned into. So I apologize, to anyone who doesn't know me, or doesn't know me well. But I have been given this imagination that has made the traditional ideas of growing up very difficult for me. I have no problem with taking care of myself and paying my own bills and voting and doing my taxes. For someone as scatterbrained as I can be sometimes, I think I have done quite well with all of that in the past few years of making it on my own. But there's the other side of me... the one, I guess, that is supposed to be a writer, the creative side that I don't show to everyone, because let's face it, sometimes people don't handle it well.
I am out of control with my commas today. Wow.
Anyway... I am still searching for myself, I think. I didn't realize it until just now. I thought I had a pretty good grasp of who I am, but its not true quite yet. I know who I am in the real world, and I know who I am when I lose myself in imagination and creativity, but I have yet to merge the two successfully. Perhaps I am afraid of the clash of those two worlds. Or is it just the loss of acceptance that I fear?
Here's a thought. Maybe God has a plan. Maybe he even made me and loves me and therefore wants me to be successful, so he knows exactly what I need to do. Maybe he wanted a Jo in the world, after all, and I wasn't really a mistake, as I have so often despaired to believe.
But how do I get others to see it, too? How do you inspire a lost world to keep believing? So many have sold out, and given up, and forgotten who they were, or don't even know who they could be. And my heart bleeds for them. But, silly me, God would have a plan for them, too, now wouldn't he?
So I am going to work on the merging of the two worlds inside me, and trust that God knows, and God does. Maybe that's why I awoke to sunshine, and the feeling that life was about to get better.
I guess, if ever the Real and Creative worlds were to meet, it would make sense that they would be inside a very Real and Creative God...
Stream of Unconscious
Often I wake in the middle of the night with thoughts and visions that must be written. A lot of it may seem like mere rambling, but I am a born writer; I need to see what happens to my words once they stare back at me from the pages of my computer screen. Since I am ususally more than half-asleep when this happens, I jokingly entitled the original document: "Stream of Unconscious." Now that I am finally starting to publish in a blog (as so many people have suggested I should do!), I thought the title remained appropriate.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Rainy Day Blues
I won't deny it, I finally let the Melancholy get to me this week.
We lost our sunshine and warmth to the rain these past few days, and I've spent several evenings in a row alone now, and it finally just got inside me. Turns out drinking alcohol and watching even the most hilarious videos on YouTube isn't enough to fill the gap of human companionship. I guess I'm just plain, good old-fashioned lonely. And I don't mind admitting it anymore.
I realized it just a few hours ago, in the Wal-mart checkout aisle, when I found myself trying to make conversation with the girl at the counter. Not that there's anything wrong with talking to retail workers. I was in her shoes not so very long ago, and I always appreciated the people who treated me like a human being. But I realized I was talking to her because I was just desperate for a conversation. About anything. I guess that's what I get for taking an office job in a sea of cubicles where we're not supposed to speak to each other...
Sometimes I wonder if I'm going crazy. Seriously. My life really isn't that bad. So why is it my life is this bad? I was just reading my posts from just a few months ago, and I'm really doing well, considering. So maybe I'm just being dramatic. But I don't feel like I'm being dramatic. I just feel like I can't get my life together. I need someone's help. I think I'm supposed to say I need God's help. And maybe I do. But I don't know that I need God's help as much as I need other people. Is that sacrilegious or just ignorant? It is not my intention to be either.
Like right now. I need a backrub, and a good, long hug, and maybe even a free dinner. I need a real conversation, and maybe some laughter, and a good strong cup of coffee, and a new novel. And I need someone to help me clean my apartment, because I'm starting to believe it will never, ever, ever get done if I'm left to my own devices. And I'm depressed about it. I've been fighting this battle for a long, long time... it is never an easy demon to face.
My internet connection is lousy. It keeps cutting in and out and threatening to lose my unsaved work. I don't think losing this post would be such a loss. But I guess it's good to show the bad days along with the good. I am trying to learn to be real on paper, after all.
But I don't want to waste my words whining. There are definitely good things going on in my life. I just spent an atrocious amount of money on groceries, and unless my car breaks down or I have some sort of physical calamity, I'll never really notice a difference, because I finally have a good enough job that I can do that!
I really need time travel right now. I want to go back to my old apartment and find that scared little girl I was and give her a hug and tell her it will all be okay. Maybe six months from now I'll be reading this post and think the same thing all over again. Maybe I'll have some fantastic boyfriend by then, and a perfect relationship with Jesus, and my apartment, of course, will be spotless! :) Here's hoping.
But I know, from much experience, that rainy days pass.
It is nearly Friday. Just a few hours' sleep away from the last work day of the week. And then I get to go see Prince Caspian with my friends, and then whatever I find to do on Saturday, hopefully another convicting and encouraging Sunday, and then back to earning a living. I wonder how long I will do this? Will there ever be more to life again, or am I doomed to "independence" and coping with the daily grind?
A few weeks ago, I had a drink with a guy from work who told me I wasn't the kind of person who should be sitting in a cubicle figuring out people's medical benefits. He said I should join the Peace Corps and do my part to make the world a better place, or find some other way of using this deep heart in me. His words, not mine. I have been haunted by those words ever since... and I don't know what to do.
I have always wanted to leave this life behind and go somewhere and do something that everyone will think is crazy. It's just in me, and I'm not sure I'll ever silence that voice, even if I try. But then there's that part of me that has finally, finally found a place to settle, to rest for just a little while. And I waited so long for some rest, and a place that felt like home...
So there's the gypsy in me that will always want to travel and seek the new, and there's also the tired young woman who's way too young to feel this damn tired! Somehow I harbor both in my soul. And I really believe I need to rest for now, and maybe put down roots and see what happens.
Either way it is a risk. They are just different types. I am glad to know that I don't fear risk as much as I used to. Perhaps I am growing up a bit after all. I hope God hasn't given up on me yet. I'm pretty sure He doesn't do that, though, or we'd all be in trouble...
Just this week, one of my dear friends gave me a verse (from Psalm 103) that says: "The Lord is compassionate and merciful, slow to anger, and filled with unfailing love."
I still can't wrap my brain around it. What would it be like to be "filled with unfailing love," I wonder, because all the "love" I've ever been given has failed me at some point. I suppose we are all messes and failures in some way... and that's why we need Perfect Love. God's love. Compassionate, merciful, not easily angered... unfailing.
Even on gloomy, melancholy, rainy days. That is a very comforting thought.
We lost our sunshine and warmth to the rain these past few days, and I've spent several evenings in a row alone now, and it finally just got inside me. Turns out drinking alcohol and watching even the most hilarious videos on YouTube isn't enough to fill the gap of human companionship. I guess I'm just plain, good old-fashioned lonely. And I don't mind admitting it anymore.
I realized it just a few hours ago, in the Wal-mart checkout aisle, when I found myself trying to make conversation with the girl at the counter. Not that there's anything wrong with talking to retail workers. I was in her shoes not so very long ago, and I always appreciated the people who treated me like a human being. But I realized I was talking to her because I was just desperate for a conversation. About anything. I guess that's what I get for taking an office job in a sea of cubicles where we're not supposed to speak to each other...
Sometimes I wonder if I'm going crazy. Seriously. My life really isn't that bad. So why is it my life is this bad? I was just reading my posts from just a few months ago, and I'm really doing well, considering. So maybe I'm just being dramatic. But I don't feel like I'm being dramatic. I just feel like I can't get my life together. I need someone's help. I think I'm supposed to say I need God's help. And maybe I do. But I don't know that I need God's help as much as I need other people. Is that sacrilegious or just ignorant? It is not my intention to be either.
Like right now. I need a backrub, and a good, long hug, and maybe even a free dinner. I need a real conversation, and maybe some laughter, and a good strong cup of coffee, and a new novel. And I need someone to help me clean my apartment, because I'm starting to believe it will never, ever, ever get done if I'm left to my own devices. And I'm depressed about it. I've been fighting this battle for a long, long time... it is never an easy demon to face.
My internet connection is lousy. It keeps cutting in and out and threatening to lose my unsaved work. I don't think losing this post would be such a loss. But I guess it's good to show the bad days along with the good. I am trying to learn to be real on paper, after all.
But I don't want to waste my words whining. There are definitely good things going on in my life. I just spent an atrocious amount of money on groceries, and unless my car breaks down or I have some sort of physical calamity, I'll never really notice a difference, because I finally have a good enough job that I can do that!
I really need time travel right now. I want to go back to my old apartment and find that scared little girl I was and give her a hug and tell her it will all be okay. Maybe six months from now I'll be reading this post and think the same thing all over again. Maybe I'll have some fantastic boyfriend by then, and a perfect relationship with Jesus, and my apartment, of course, will be spotless! :) Here's hoping.
But I know, from much experience, that rainy days pass.
It is nearly Friday. Just a few hours' sleep away from the last work day of the week. And then I get to go see Prince Caspian with my friends, and then whatever I find to do on Saturday, hopefully another convicting and encouraging Sunday, and then back to earning a living. I wonder how long I will do this? Will there ever be more to life again, or am I doomed to "independence" and coping with the daily grind?
A few weeks ago, I had a drink with a guy from work who told me I wasn't the kind of person who should be sitting in a cubicle figuring out people's medical benefits. He said I should join the Peace Corps and do my part to make the world a better place, or find some other way of using this deep heart in me. His words, not mine. I have been haunted by those words ever since... and I don't know what to do.
I have always wanted to leave this life behind and go somewhere and do something that everyone will think is crazy. It's just in me, and I'm not sure I'll ever silence that voice, even if I try. But then there's that part of me that has finally, finally found a place to settle, to rest for just a little while. And I waited so long for some rest, and a place that felt like home...
So there's the gypsy in me that will always want to travel and seek the new, and there's also the tired young woman who's way too young to feel this damn tired! Somehow I harbor both in my soul. And I really believe I need to rest for now, and maybe put down roots and see what happens.
Either way it is a risk. They are just different types. I am glad to know that I don't fear risk as much as I used to. Perhaps I am growing up a bit after all. I hope God hasn't given up on me yet. I'm pretty sure He doesn't do that, though, or we'd all be in trouble...
Just this week, one of my dear friends gave me a verse (from Psalm 103) that says: "The Lord is compassionate and merciful, slow to anger, and filled with unfailing love."
I still can't wrap my brain around it. What would it be like to be "filled with unfailing love," I wonder, because all the "love" I've ever been given has failed me at some point. I suppose we are all messes and failures in some way... and that's why we need Perfect Love. God's love. Compassionate, merciful, not easily angered... unfailing.
Even on gloomy, melancholy, rainy days. That is a very comforting thought.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Nocturnal Ramblings
I haven't written in a very long time, and I'm tired of staring at that same old post. So I'm going to do something about it! I suppose sleepy rambling is better than old news, right? I'll feel better about it, anyway.
So my life's been interesting lately. All sorts of things have been happening that I don't feel at liberty to post about just yet. I know, the mystery is killing you, right? :) All I'm saying is, I think God's doing some stuff. And if it's not God, man, am I gonna be in trouble!! But that's faith for you. Wow...
I just finished watching one of my favorite movies, Stranger Than Fiction, and I was reminded of how much I love writing. Everything from the act of writing, to the editing process, to reading what others have written (unless it's written poorly); I just love it! What exactly does that mean, though? Why am I not writing a novel by now? Am I just lazy, or am I supposed to trust my senses right now, when they tell me to hold off for a little while longer?
Who knows?
But I can't escape it. Writing is in me. There's nothing I can do. Like right now... I should either be cleaning up for the friend that's coming over to watch a movie tomorrow, or I should be going to bed, because I'm very, very tired. But neither of those things are happening, because the thought of a blank page came to me and I had a need to fill it up. Hopefully with quality literature, in good time, but for now it's just my general thoughts before I give up trying to motivate myself to clean up, and go ahead and fall asleep. Was that a run-on sentence? I'm pretty sure that was a run-on sentence.
Probably tomorrow, when I read this, I will be disappointed in my lack of creativity and meaningful words. Right now it feels cathartic, and possibly even brilliant. Why is it the next day always reveals your words to be less than inspired? It amazes me.
Here's hoping tomorrow reveals brilliance! :)
So my life's been interesting lately. All sorts of things have been happening that I don't feel at liberty to post about just yet. I know, the mystery is killing you, right? :) All I'm saying is, I think God's doing some stuff. And if it's not God, man, am I gonna be in trouble!! But that's faith for you. Wow...
I just finished watching one of my favorite movies, Stranger Than Fiction, and I was reminded of how much I love writing. Everything from the act of writing, to the editing process, to reading what others have written (unless it's written poorly); I just love it! What exactly does that mean, though? Why am I not writing a novel by now? Am I just lazy, or am I supposed to trust my senses right now, when they tell me to hold off for a little while longer?
Who knows?
But I can't escape it. Writing is in me. There's nothing I can do. Like right now... I should either be cleaning up for the friend that's coming over to watch a movie tomorrow, or I should be going to bed, because I'm very, very tired. But neither of those things are happening, because the thought of a blank page came to me and I had a need to fill it up. Hopefully with quality literature, in good time, but for now it's just my general thoughts before I give up trying to motivate myself to clean up, and go ahead and fall asleep. Was that a run-on sentence? I'm pretty sure that was a run-on sentence.
Probably tomorrow, when I read this, I will be disappointed in my lack of creativity and meaningful words. Right now it feels cathartic, and possibly even brilliant. Why is it the next day always reveals your words to be less than inspired? It amazes me.
Here's hoping tomorrow reveals brilliance! :)
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