I’d like to undo the stitches in the wound on my head and stick the vacuum cleaner in there. If you want to know how I got that wound you can read about it here. Ironically I wrote about that experience on the fateful day that ushered in the foolishness that has led me to want to rid my head space of the thoughts that appear to have pooled there.
Questions without answers that are asked over and over again. Songs of hopelessness, dirges that tell me to stay mournful. Heckling supposed to have meaning in the absence of understanding that just chips away at me. I had almost believed I was enough just as I am…see what I mean?! Bitchiness and meanness to myself…bringing myself down as if I’m not already flat on the floor.
I had an ex who took issue with my lack of meanness. He told me after we broke up that you have to “treat em mean to keep em keen.” Really it’s only me I’m mean to though. And it never helps. I remain unconvinced that meanness to anyone else does either.
We could use a flush mechanism in the mind couldn’t we? It doesn’t matter what you thought happened, it doesn’t matter what didn’t happen. It doesn’t matter what won’t happen. Flush. Make room for acceptance. Actually that flush mechanism is called meditation and it wouldn’t hurt to do more of it.
And I cannot seem to get warm at the moment. The cold has seeped in through the cracks, forming an ice skating rink on the surface of my heart where the blades dance and twirl and land.
I’m trying hard for grace and dignity. But it’s not warming. Human frailty can be a cold, cold place. I’m trying to stoke the fires by pursuing purpose. But there’s too much irony. I’m trying to light up with small joys in the day. Fake.it.til.you.make.it! But you’d better be feeling this! All of it! No pushing it down to the caverns and barred doors within.
Apparently this coldness may be an emotional signature pattern. Are humans not the most interesting creatures?! Check it out here.
I need to just keep blowing on the embers with the whispers that are calls for help, strength, healing, meaning. Actually that whispering is called prayer and it wouldn’t hurt to do more of it.
My bible’s getting a good working out at the moment! One word after another, one page after another, one foot in front of the other…that’s how it is sometimes in life while we survive and keep going, hoping and waiting for the time when our life will feel like a celebration of all that is worthy and good in us. Instead of bouncing off the ice, those small joys will make our hearts glow. Pursuing purpose will be done with purpose. Self love will be rekindled. The mind will be free of tumbleweeds and be fertile again.
“I have written your name on the palms of my hands.”
Isaiah 49:16, the verse that is the subject of one of my favourite images from my childhood. A child sitting on the palm of a hand. Abba Father. I’m curled up in that palm right now. Safe and secure.
“Yet not what I will, but what you will.”
Mark 14:36. And it wouldn’t hurt to do more of it.