Protected:

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Lackluster

I just haven’t felt the passion to write lately, which definitely shows in what I’ve written. To me, it seems to fall flat—so I don’t write.

But part of the lack of writing seems to be the idea that life is lived online. My life is active and lived mainly off this blog. If you haven’t received a phone call or email, you don’t know what jobs I’ve had since moving here. You don’t know why I quit one job and now have two others. You don’t know how my life with my husband is going nor why I’m so upset with some people I can barely contain myself from venting here.

You might know that I’m a loyal person and that I hate seeing friends and family get hurt. In fact, I’ve probably written about that. But you don’t know how hurt I actually get when my loved ones are put in tough positions. When they are hit over the head with stupidity and pain.

But even that passion, the passion of anger and outrage, cannot come across here. I cannot vent outward because it’s blowing smoke toward the sky. Those involved need to know my feelings more so than you, right? But for reasons outside myself, I hold onto it and don’t vomit words on the causes of such hurt.

What do you really know about me, then? The woman who has lived on this blog and my other one, where this all started? Do you know what is written behind the lines, what is deleted and re-thought? What is between the words I’m really saying?

I can’t blame you for that because this—this is not the totality of being, this blog isn’t. We should all know and realize this to be true.

So why do so many think that this blog is me? That my husband’s blog is…him?

If so, we’re pretty sparse creatures.

And with so much passion living outright in our daily lives, the lackluster bits of lint found here are incomparable with who we are daily.

We love fiercely and feel pain keenly, but we are not about to become just words on a page to please anyone. We are—and always will remain—real, true, and alive in this world. To be less, to live within the confines some wish to put us in would become more of the world than I wish to be.

Maintaining dignity

Who among us hasn’t invested time—perhaps years—into a relationship that we probably shouldn’t have been a part of? Significant (or not-so-significant, depending on how you now look at it) other, friendship, even family members that we invest ourselves in, spending time to make it work only to find out something that gives us pause and makes us realize that nothing was what we thought it was.

Sure, I’m ruminating a bit overmuch tonight, as it’s getting later and I’ve been ill for the past few months, so my brain has been on slow-speed and hey-um-what? mode for some time. So, getting back into reading the “rapid-fire reruns” of a strip I used to greatly enjoy has made for some interesting thoughts (as also combined with several occurrences in my life in the past year or so). I mentioned a realization that I cannot control what other people do or think or how they perceive what is going on around them. We all fall into traps where we think one thing is going on and believe we are presenting ourselves one way only to find out that our actions have been perceived otherwise—or that the other person has been acting with self-serving machinations. (Please read all four strips along with the commentary, which will better help you understand what’s going on there, I think. Unless you were a QoW fan anyway, of course.)

Wellsprings

Every time I sit down to write something, an observation or an overswell of love or emotion, I can’t finish the post. My life has changed so dramatically in the past year alone that I can’t even begin to explain it here, to pour out the newness that I’ve become.

It’s not just marriage or my relationship with Neal, but is so many other things, so many other thoughts and ideas. My jobs (yes, more than one in the past few months), my faith, my friendships, my ideals. Things once taken for granted are now forefront in my mind: friendships that are true and deep and real, communication with loved ones, people who care enough to attempt said communication, people who care enough to hug you and remind you that you are missed.

I can’t pour it all out. I can’t begin to describe the emotion of getting a hug from a former helper at my previous job here and the feeling of loss that I can’t chat with her while we’re rushed and doing things as quickly as possible since I quit that job and (luckily) found another. I can’t write in-depth on my realizations that friendships with mature people who understand the meaning of real relationships and care for others has caught me off guard, simply because I have just now seen that I have had these and that most people our age just don’t seem to be able to handle this, which is why most of my close friendships since college have been with people who are quite a bit older than me and why I can have serious discussions with these people, understanding them and (finally) feel understood. I have been told I have an old soul and perhaps this is true, to some extent, since I just can’t understand losing myself in the hectic but lifeless pleasure this world has to offer and I just prefer to lose myself in other people instead—finding depth in discussing our minds and hearts and not just the latest games or movie. I suppose this is why I have immediate confidence of strangers, something I took for granted and, often, found inconvenient. Now? I just realize how lucky I am to be with people who care that I understand and will talk with me, despite our age differences, as someone I now know they consider wise and careful in thought.

I realize that we can’t control the actions of others. We can only express our own intent and desires and hope that people follow through in being considerate.

I find that I’m missing deeper (in-person) friendships but then that I am often reminded (such as tonight at church) that true friendship requires investment; and investment, time. Bonds of friendship don’t appear in an instant nor do they remain without increased investment of time and communication. I haven’t been here long enough to have invested the time needed to be so close. But I am getting there through just being me and realizing that I am someone that enjoys people.

What I miss the most is true discussion, but I am finding that more and more with my new job and my new boss, who is the most considerate and kind woman I’ve ever met. And she understands me and my brain, which is a relief. Whoever thought that a job could be rewarding, fun to go to, and not stressful—all at the same time?

I still desire more in life, obviously. I want more time to write and more time to spend just…thinking about what it means to be what I’m supposed to be. Not why I’m here but…how I am to get to know myself in all my new roles and learn to be that woman gracefully.

I need to, at the same time, think less about myself and more about the other people I’m involved with on a personal basis. Who am I with them? Who do I want to be? Who should I be? Do these needs coincide? Which is the greater person?

I can’t begin to write it all down. My fierce love of my family and friends, especially those who have made me feel loved and wanted, even so far away. I can’t tell you how much it warms the heart to open your home to a friend or family member and just bask in their willingness to drive all this way to see us.

I can’t explain the desire to grab my niece and hold her up here, not letting her go back home after Thanksgiving, just because I enjoyed her presence so much and loved holding her small hand in mine and showing her the place I’ve come to love as my home. To just see her love these places as much and enjoy them as I do, finding each little thing joyous and spellbinding. To wish my parents could also stay in this bounteous place of grace a bit longer and see more of the beauty I hope to never take for granted.

What of the fierce love for my husband that grows daily? The desire to help him be the greatest man he could ever be? When I first met him, he was broken and downhearted and…he has become the most wonderful person in the past two years, someone I now look at and wonder how he could be such an amazing man, how he grew into who he now is and…still love me through all the growth and pain. I wonder that anyone who knew him then recognizes him now, he has changed so much and overcome what he was. I knew that a greater person was concealed inside but never could have realized how loving, considerate, and forgiving that man would truly be. (Sadly, many will read this but none will understand what it means, which pains us both.)

I can’t stand those I love to be in pain and…I can’t do anything to stop it from happening. I can only pray, hold, and comfort—and hope that helps in some small measure.

And I still can’t describe, truly, what I’m feeling these days. I can only give short glimpses in my joy and pain, my love and confusion.

Words desert in these highs and lows. I know they will return, probably soon. I don’t worry now, as I would have in the past. I miss them, yes, but I have so many new things to take their place right now. Love, hope, faith, growth, pain…

Oh, so much more than these even.

Peace, at long last?

Yes, that might be it.