it's an odd wind lately. like an out of place Chinook blowing the autumn leaves...or an arctic breeze whisping through sweaty summer strands. and i'm not sure how i feel about it. because of all the things winds can blow away, this one has brought a plague of disappointment.
i was talking to a friend this week. no one ever told us our twenties would be like this, we commented.
not that "this" was ever that bad in the first place, but certainly the hope that college infused is slowly bleeding out--and this not-so-gentle breeze that came subtly in the night has suddenly found us bloodletting the hopes & dreams of the "this" that was supposed to be. and before i go on, i'll make it clear that we are blessed. us, personally, and us, as a whole in this country. we complain because of the excess--the excess cars to make pollution & food to make fat & groceries to make garbage. but all-in-all, we are blessed, indeed.
i think the mindset of "this" comes from something that we'd dreamed up that never came to be. our hearts wished, just like Cinderella said they should, but the dream never came true. and here we are, living in the perpetual world of real-life REM, frozen beyond Stage III of waking. Of course in sleep, our REM world renders us immobile--unable to run from the vivid bad guys or swim in the rising river. I guess the real life feels that way a little right now, too: frozen.
and its the disappointment that has invaded our hearts in the meantime, the bloodletting of our former hopes & dreams, the broken mirror & the drowning wish...
it's kind of hard, actually.
kind of hard to face the day when you didn't get chosen for the job or the school or role. kind of hard to face the moment when it seems just too big to handle; when the right decisions you made three months ago suddenly seem so wrong & when the prayers you prayed so hard were answered but seemingly in the wrong way alltogether. it sort of makes one wonder if the prayers we prayed so fervently at the beginning of it all were misdirected wantings.
much of the time on most of these days, it is hard to see beyond the "this"--hard to see above the expectations, through the veil of now, and into the future. the uncertainty prevails in these hours and we find ourselves clinging. clinging to ourselves. to each other. to peanut butter & warm baths & candles & each other.
oh, and jesus, too.
which is what i haven't been so good about lately, the clinging--to the right things, the right One, at least. I've clung to my schedule, the lack of consistency. i've clung to my comfort foods--lately it is caramel kettle corn & apples + peanut butter (not together, of course). i've clung to my sleep. and my To Do List that never seems to get checked. most mornings, after i've battled half asleep with the idea of waking two hours early to work out & then face a 12-hour-work-day, after i've fallen asleep in the shower, i leave my dust-ridden Bible in a flurry of rushed.
instead of clinging, i leave.
we're all in the midst of transitions. the beautiful souls in our small group are battering down the hatches right alongside us, suffering their own afflictions of the disappointed "this". its an honor to be part of it all--the centering, the supporting, the living. i guess you could say i'm getting used to it all, the unpredictability of this new wind. and just like any weather pattern, the beauty & mystery of storms is that they roll. the winds will surely change. when exactly, none can be sure.
in the meantime, we'll keep clinging. we'll keep facing the plagues of heartache, the winds of change, & the uncertain "this", certain that the "this" will soon become the "was".