What a beautiful Sunday morning. My thinking candle is burning and the sun is shining through the skylight onto my face…Yellow Leadbetter playing quietly.
People read my blog but seldom comment…please humor me…If you had to choose would you choose security over happiness? A job that gives lots of money but you feel like you have to be greatful for and you muster up a list of bullet pointed crumbs of reasons for that happiness like you are convincing yourself. Frivolous spending over creative freedom? It’s ok, I can be creative with the things I buy even though I have little energy to enjoy them. Would you choose your own control over faith in God? The control that has always been at the tips of your fingers, leaving you hungry and empty and you convince yourself that it feels good. Upon reading them the seem like no brainers, but actually apply them to a situation in your life….over your finances….over your security and control.
These are the things I have had my mind on this past week. I have been sorta on autopilot. Not really able to focus on the moment. I have been praying almost constantly. Waiting for “a sign”. Found myself a couple of times, not being able to make any decisions…Chocolate or vanilla…? I say, “Well uh…what was the question again?…ummm what was the first option?…Uhhh, you choose”, is what I finally decide.
I’ve found myself wanting to take a walk and just check things out. The first day this notion hit me I was home sick and it was raining outside…not a good idea. Yesterday I did manage to get outside but it was a family walk, and well, I told you my ability to focus, or to be just in the moment is nil. I have been very content to just sit and wait…to think about pansies and the shiney magnolia leaves in my yard.
My thoughts lead me to: who will I become? now with such freedom I can get that little nose ring that is so shiny and pleasing…(Uh oh…I hear the collective gasp)…will I smell like patchouli (more frequently) and will I be BROKE as a JOKE and regret my decision and wish I could renig?
Will my house always be clean? Willmy house always smell of something good cooking? will there always be an art project on the kitchen counter as a work in progress? Will my children be growing and developing their little identities at a faster pace with more contributions from me? Will my husband’s belly always be full and happy and will he be greated with happy faces instead of tired, dejected faces?
Am I wearing rose colored glasses?
I have wondered several times this week what is going on with me. I have always tethered myself to things I have control over. Always opted for the secure route. Always provided and happily chosen the path of provider. Always defined myself by my work and reveled in my work ethic. I have always also suffered from anxiety. Sometimes worse than others. For the past two months, no anxiety. No two ton elephant impairing my ability to take a full breath. While anxiety resonates suffering when brought up in a casual conversation, what I am learning is that it had some positive attributes. It kept the cogs greased. Kept me striving for…something. Held me hostage to the control and the providing.
What I am now finding, with my dear friend and beloved mate anxiety on vacation is that I am ok. I am ok, just the way I am. That I no longer am fearful. That I have examined my faith and rest well within it.
I wonder what it will look like outside when I loosen my grasp to be more creative, to savor every moment of the sunny days ahead and the noisy giggles of my little children. You see, when I am striving despite my aching body, when I push myself beyond what is comfortable for my moments, that is all I see. I don’t see the vivid colors of a beautiful morning. Although I hear the birds I do not contemplate their song. I see that I need to start my car, carry 5 bags of “stuff” (some of them mine, some of them not) to the car, get my daughter to school, get that cup of coffee that starts my engine and get to work all in 20 minutes. What is it in those bags I carry anyway. I took a look. It tea bags, books, rose water spray, cough drops. All the comforts of home. Plus the cough drops to ease the dry scratch that is so often my throat these days.
Will the colors outside look more vivid? Will the dull haze of my daily schedule that reflects on my skin become radiant. Will I giggle with my children? Will the brittle fibres of my muscles begin to soften and become more pliable?
As I finish writing this, the song by Ben Harper “Walk Away” begins to play….
Is that my sign?