it’s been an interesting week. lots of waiting. waiting for baby (not here). waiting for deliveries(not even shipped). waiting for news ( i don’t really want to hear) and phone calls ( that are really hard to hear when your phone is on do not distrub :(. ) lol.
of course, this is really nothing to complain about but i realize how d**n impatient i am these days. i want things to happen faster than an instant and with very little inconvenience to me. this tends make one (aka me) act like an a**h**e for lack of a better word and that is my struggle…maybe it is a human struggle. it could hormones or it could just be that i am a jerk.
i dunno. i realize that on the internet (and maybein real life) it’s fairly easy to pretend you have it all together. i am not on who thrives on revealing her deepest secrets and fears to strangers…but let’s be real. i am not perfect. this time has been hard. loss and uncertainty peeling my ears and hearts wide open. so, i am recovering and recovering feels like and endless job. i am impatient with myself and my limits. this is not something that needs to be fixed or pity…it’s just life.
i feel like all i do is complain on here but i am not complaining. we have been programed to kill off any sign of discomfort in yourself and others rather than allow. so it feels like i am sad little song but i don’t actually feel sad. i don’t know how to write fluffy human interest stories about myself and life. i want to be that person because i imagine it easier and less gut-wrenching but that is not the writing i need to offer to myself and the world these days, if ever.
my writing is the one place that i have always allowed my heart to show up raggedly and broken. the one place where i am not overly sanitized and free. the one place that i have not tried to continually patch myself up but let myself become.
for me, writing is not therapy but it is therapeutic. i am well aware that when i turn a corner i might not write on this blog for ages or erase it all together but for now it stands…my little gathering place for the real and the wondrous.
i hope that you have that place, too. a place in the privacy of your home, mind or some sanctuary where you can drop your defense and armor. a space where the balm of being reminds you of your sweetness and possibility…even if it feels like a long shot…you are held…you are still part of something beautiful…you are beauty and mess…we all are…it’s OK.