The Point

Foreword: I did, actually, begin writing this on April 15th while in New York City. My feet hurt too badly to finish it at the time. A lot has happened since then, and it worked to transform this entry into something else entirely. So...for those of you who have been updated on my life, don't be confused by the date.

When two of my closest friends moved to NYC a coupla months ago, I was....I dunno....proud of them, I suppose. Saying that one is moving there (here) is almost like a euphenism for the dream of success, excitement, fame, or living out "the dream" itself. It sounds cliche', almost. But guess what? People actually do it. People actually pack up thier belongings, sell their cars, and go for it. And the fact that two people I care about decided to put the plan into action grew an even larger amount of respect in me for them. Then again, I always respect people for taking risks...for daring to do things and go places (physically and emotionally) that don't seem "safe" for the chance of experiencing greatness or, at the very least, newness. I've tried my own version of this several times in, perhaps, less grandiose form. But the success of my well-intentioned adventures hasn't always been quick to show itself. In fact, at times, it hasn't shown itself at all.

At this particular juncture in what is, apparently, my life...I'm once again considering another change. Another risk. Another move. Honestly, just the thought of it makes me want to curl into the fetal position and hide under the covers. BUT, I'm forever romanced by the possibility of...well, possibility. At least, that's the positive spin I'm choosing to put on things right now for the sake of my sanity. Yes. POSSIBILITY. Beautiful word, don't ya think?

The myriad of details that is turning my eyes towards all of this possible-ness is too much to review. But I'll say this about it. Sometimes, no matter what you do, things just don't go as planned. Do you ever sit back in frustration and wonder what the point is in doing "the right thing"? (I guess if you're a horrible person who prefers to do "the wrong thing" in most cases, then you won't be able to relate.) For months, I've had to talk myself into the concept of doing what I know is RIGHT on a daily basis. It wasn't that I had forgotten what was RIGHT or that I didn't know what was RIGHT. It's just that it's so much easier to do what is, in fact, WRONG, when you are surrounded by crappy people or crappy situations. The human part of me has lusted after spite, anger, laziness, and the consistent urge to hit certain someones in the face with harsh honesty and perhaps a open-handed bitch slap. By the grace of God, I've managed to put that lust aside for the most part. And I've asked God continually what the point is in ignoring those tempting desires. It would be extremely easy for me at this point to say it was all for nothing, even though I really know better.

I came across something this morning that solidified for me "WHY". Why, indeed, it was (and always will be) worth it. This is a portion of what I read, and it would not be "the right thing" for me to not share it.

"Let me commend to you a life of trust in God in temporal things. Trusting in God, you will not be compelled to mourn because you have used sinful means to grow rich. Serve God with integrity, and if you acheive no success, at least no sin will lie upon your conscience. Trusting God, you will not be guilty of self-contradiction. Those who trust in skill sail this way today and that way the next, like a vessel tossed about by the fickle wind; but they who trust in the Lord are like a vessel propelled by steam, which cuts through the waves, defies the wind, and makes one bright, straight, silvery track to her destined haven. Be someone with living principles within; never bow to the varying customs of worldy wisdom. Walk in your path of integrity with firm steps, and show that you are invincibly strong in the strengh which confidence in God alone can confer. This is how you will be delivered from anxiety; you will not be troubled by bad news, your heart will be fixed, trusting in the Lord. How pleasant to float along the stream of providence! There is no more blessed a way of living a life of dependence upon a covenant-keeping God. We have no care, for he cares for us; we have no troubles, because we cast our burdens upon the Lord."

Oh, yeah. So that's it.
THIS is why I can sleep at night (when I don't have stressed-induced insomnia, that is). THIS is why I feel healthier now than I have in many months. THIS is one of the many reasons that I live for the God that I do. His grace and his covenant make it all worth something. I praise him for the ability to trust. I praise him for truth.

Rest Assured......

I wanted to give a shout-out to all my (probably formerly) devoted fans....I have not abandoned you or my blog!! My home computer is temporarily "disabled", so I have not been able to indulge in my usual cathartic therapy...spending an hour here or there to post my innermost thoughts and struggles. In the past, I would blog while at work, but those happy days are no more. My job requires 175% of my time, and when I find a spare moment, it's usually just to use the potty or to take a quick shot of Guiness behind the dumpsters outside.

But...don't give up on me!! I'll be back! Check in on me every now and then. Before you know it, I'll be spittin' em out again. I promise!!

If Luck were a baby, he'd be a bastard.

WooHoo!! I'm the big winner! My car was broken into yesterday....again. When it happened 6 months ago or so, everyone on my street said "That hasn't happened on our street for years." Of course, they also said that several weeks later when the house got broken into. The cops and my landlord both said (in regards to yesterday's incident) "That hasn't happened at these apartments for a couple of years." Fascinating, don't ya think? Has anyone noticed a freakin spotlight shining on me from somewhere? Why am I so damn lucky?

I know what you're thinking....you wish I'd shut up and drop the defeatist attitude. But this is my blog, so I can vent as much as I care to. That's why I have a blog in the first place, after all. I'm signing off now....I've gotta go get a third job to pay for my new car window.

aahhhh.....about the poetry, that is........

The restroom at my office bears the classic poem of the public toilet. Printed and laminated on a discolored sheet of construction paper reads “If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.” Next to the poem is the graphic of a not-so-modern robot holding a balloon. I take offense at this cutesie reminder to not piss all over the toilet seat. First of all….I don’t need a reminder. I feel like I’m in the 2nd grade when I have to read that 4 times a day. (6-7 times if I drink a lot.) Secondly….why the robot? Seems like a better spokesperson for responsible restroom behavior would be a nurse or a bluebird or Barney….or even Magic Johnson. I’m just incredibly annoyed with the whole thing. I never thought I’d say it, but I’d rather read fowl cusswords and phone numbers of strangers when I pee in a public place. That’s the way it should be.

Paradise With a Side of Bacon

There was a bit on the news the other day about crime-related T.V. shows. Police departments all over the country are frustrated with shows like C.S.I. (all 14 versions) and Law & Order (all 57 versions) because they give potential criminals too much instruction about how NOT to get caught. Fingerprints, hair strands, and blood splatters are getting harder to come by behind the yellow tape. Not only that, but police say that these shows give the public unrealistic expectations about crime solving...making it harder for them to do their jobs. My thoughts about that type of entertainment is that it gives already crazy people even more creative ways to do horrible things. Of course, in the mid 80's, cops in Miami were pissed off because of the pressure to wear pastel sports jackets. If it's not one thing, it's another.

Instead of barking about the unrealistic expectations of crime shows, I think we should all talk about how shows like Friends equip us to feel crappy about our personal lives. Don't you sometimes wish that a predictable joke or an espresso at your favorite coffee shop (oh, yeah....and EVERY time you go there, one of your best pals is on the couch) could smooth things over when they get complicated and frustrating and not-so-pretty? Why aren't psychologists and case workers complaining about how Joey and Rachel are making THEIR jobs difficult? pansy policeman......

A friend very recently mentioned the idea of WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT IF EVERYONE THAT WE CARE ABOUT COULD ALL COEXIST IN THE SAME LIFE?(loose translation) We've all thought about this, haven't we? I think most of us would want it. It doesn't sound all that tricky, but it's so difficult, in fact, that it's almost impossible. Well, I guess it's not that far fetched for some. If you've lived in the same hick town your entire life and you've never gone anywhere and never done anything and nobody you know has gone anywhere or done anything and your circle of relationship has wound itself so tightly that nobody new comes in and nobody old gets out.....then everyone you care about can exist together. But for most of us, it's just not that simple. Most of us are stuck in the middle of the giant complex organism of life, and people come and go from all directions and half of the time they never bump into each other. They only bump into YOU; and the only evidence they see of the others are the bruises left on your arms from time to time.

I had a dream last night that I was in a cramped, smoky Waffle House. I went in with a small group of friends (ones that I happen to be missing right now). We sat down, ordered our food. Seconds later, another group of my (our) friends walked in. We were all surprised to see each other. "Haayyy!! What are YOU doing here?" We scooted over and made room. But then it happened again. And again. And again. Before long just about every friend I have, their friends, people that I met once or twice but really liked and never saw again, my family members, and so on had walked into the restaurant. We eventually stopped acting surprised to see everyone else there. It was normal. Expected. We pulled up additional tables and shared chairs...nobody seemed to mind the lack of space. There was no awkwardness and every single person there felt acknowledged and welcomed. I was eating waffles smothered with blueberry compote. I was laughing so much that my face was covered in purple mush. It was dripping down my chin and I couldn't have cared less. Nobody did. It was beautiful.

My only conclusion of the dream is that it was a clear and obvious expression of my longing for a relationship utopia. (I can't help but grin when I realize that the setting of my personal utopia was an establishment that serves carb-laden breakfast food. How telling.) While the details of the dream are unrealistic (everyone knows that Waffle House doesn't serve compote), I can't shake off the thought of "Why not?" So much of life truly is complicated, but more often than not, I make it unnecessarily so. Thomas More believed that utopia was possible. Joey and Rachel believed it. Why shouldn't we? It's definitely a goal worth striving for.

Fear # 32

I've always been very dependent on relationships. People are important to me. My friendships act as the thermostat that regulates everything else in my world. This fact about me has often made me question my strength and my morality. Is my reliance....No, my NEED for others a weakness and a sin? Deep down I believe that the answer to that question is "no". I think we were all created to need relationship. Nobody is meant to be alone. If we were, then why would we all crave the company and the nuturing of people that love us?

It was during a conversation I had today that I was able to vocalize something that has been sitting in the back of my throat for a while. I haven't stopped relying on my friends. On a daily basis I talk to at least one person who loves me. It's a necessity I allow myself to indulge. But most of the people I talk to are not here with me. As it would be with most people, this occassionally leads me to the ever-so-familiar valley of loneliness that all of us have traveled through. But more than that....the sensation that's stronger is that I feel unknown.

It's amazing how much of what we see in ourselves is actually just a reflection of who we are in the eyes of others. The reflection that I have (subconsciously) grown so accustomed to seeing over the years has become very cloudy here. In fact, I can barely make it out at all anymore. There are people here that love me; but I just don't think I'm SEEN the way I used to be. (The people I spend eight hours a day with, for example, have no clue who I am. Sometimes people decide to see us a certain way, and there's nothing we can do to change that.)

As crazy as it sounds, I'm afraid that I'm disappearing. If no one really sees you....really KNOWS you....can that actually happen? I'm losing my ability to see myself; I'm forgetting what the reflection used to look like. The solution is one of two things: either I need new glasses or a cleaner mirror.

I guess it's better than having gas...

I cry a lot now.

It's not because I'm sad or depressed. It's not necessarily because I'm really happy, either.

The thing is; somehow my emotional wires have crossed. Whatever it is inside me that triggers my tear ducts has malfunctioned. Instead of reacting to the "normal" emotions that tears accompany, the damn thing reacts to just about every emotion I have. It's like whatever "it" is has given up on its job of sorting through the feelings in my head. "To hell wid it. She so fucked up she don't know whetha to scratch er' watch or wind er' ass. I can't keep up. Let er' cry ever day fer all I care." (Apparently, not only is the voice of my emotion tremendously insensitive, but from backwoods Arkansas.)

When I'm with someone I even remotely care about, and this fact crosses my mind when I'm with them...tears. When I get pissed off...tears. When a song on the radio reminds me of something I did or saw or said once upon a time...tears. When I think of something funny...tears. When love (or hate, for that matter) in any of its forms breezes through me momentarily...tears. When my cereal gets soggy...tears. And this is the worst one....when I talk to someone about something that's important to me...my body immediately coerces me cry. This is immesively inconvenient because I'm typically a very sincere person. I rarely talk about anything that isn't of some importance to me. As horrifying as this is to admit, I've had to tell colleagues in two different meetings lately that my "allergies were acting up" so that they wouldn't realize I was actually tearing up over what was being discussed. The excuse was perfectly believable both times, but I was secretly humiliated.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON??

In one way, I feel intensely connected to the world right now, but in another way, I feel numb to much of it. I'm an island surrounded by electrically charged water....standing alone but constantly submerged by shockwaves. I think maybe the combination of the two extremes is the cause of this. Raw, unprotected emotion knows no other way to express itself than through tears....exhausted, disconnected emotion that doesn't have the strength to hold back or be creative resorts to tears by default.

It amazes me that some people go years without crying. How is that possible? Does that mean that they are so in the world that they can't feel it pressing against them, or has all the water around their islands evaporated?