Pastoral

I found my jive again. Which is to say that I feel better for the time being. Someone said to me today that we all have our afflictions and that mine seemed to be a social compulsion to think that I can never do enough to deserve relationships with people (not necessarily men...any kind of relationship). And I can buy this about myself. And she went on to say that this is incurable. Which of course, being the growth junkie, I find a difficult thing to swallow.

It's humid here...and we walk and are wet. Although it isn't so hot. It's just steamy. Of course, I won't even talk about my hair...it is a moist mad froth. And since I consider it possibly my only redeeming feature, I HATE THIS.

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately. My mind skipping here and there. I heard a word a couple days ago-Surrender. This word could carry shame, but it doesn't for me. It isn't about losing the battle. It is about giving up before you are defeated. It is about keeping your self-respect. It is about letting go of the fight against impossible odds. It is about giving in to grace. And about harmony in knowing you've handed your wrath to a higher power.

But, it still feels frightening to me. It recommends vulnerability. And I stink at that.

I went to see The Women on Friday night with a group of women (who are amazing and work their hearts out for pet rescues in NC) that I don't hang out with a lot. Which is to say that I know not so much about them, but like what they are about and enjoy my time with them when it happens. After the movie, we were all talking and one of them mentioned a scene in the movie where two friends are angry with one another, then funny and finally crying together. And she said, "that pegs us" meaning the female race. And it isn't my experience. I hang with a different crowd. And that type of emotional outburst isn't really seen by me in the women relationships of my life. I think it is amazing that we are all so different and yet the same. I believe that women feel things, sense things and experience things in a way that no other living thing can. I think we are tuned in to a frequency that is life and we pick up on all the infinite possibility.

This can make for confusion. There is too much to choose from sometimes. But, overall, I wouldn't want to be anyone else, anything else. And I am so thankful for all those women who beat the path for me and took the hard hits to do it. I am thankful for the women who go out every day and make a new path. I feel so blessed to be a woman.

The Austen Tales

It's the second Thursday of the month and that means it's the evening for Jane. Austen that is, the book club. Tonight was Pride and Prejudice. There were five of us and then six. We talked about Elizabeth and Jane, DArcy and Bingley, dreadful Collins and sweet practical Charlotte. We sat amongst every kind of book and ate tiny onion tarts and later Chocolate Expresso cheesecake. And to be honest, I dreaded going tonight. Because of this funk that is taking me over...slowly step by step. (I won't let it...don't worry!) It's just hopelessness, which seems to be a common acquaintance of mine in the past few months. It comes and goes. I go through some supportive conversations and then I feel great for a while, only to bottom out again and feel like, well hopeless. Anyway, it actually turned out good to be there. I felt disconnected on some level, but I almost always feel that way. The conversation was good. I love hearing other people's thoughts. I like the openness of the group...no one knows it all. We offer ideas and think them through. As with any conversation I am attracted to...there aren't straight answers. More like tiny test tubes of bubbling hypotheses that never become fact. That bubble always with the possibility of what isn't known.

Why then do I live so frantically in not knowing at times? I mean, I adore it. But right now, I want to know...what happens next for me? Live my way into the answers (it's a magnet on my fridge)...forget about it! Is it age? It doesn't feel that way, but it could be. It feels like "dammit! stop jerking me around!!" That's what it feels like. That would be my God statement. And it might horrify some...but me and God have been pretty close for most of my life. So, I consider God my closest friend, and sometimes we argue.

Was it better when life got arranged for you? When you only had a few options? I doubt it. But the muddy pool I've been dealing with lately makes any kind of certainty look appealing. I won't lie about it...I'm looking for a big fat arrow in the sky. Seems lofty, I reckon but if you're going to ask for answers, you may as well shoot for the moon while you're at it. It feels a little crazy, but that's got some energy to it. I'll take a jolt over apathy any day of the week.

The only man I've ever dreamt of marrying was Mr. Darcy. And he would terrify me in real life.

Carved Out

I love fall. I do. It's the sweet spot in the year for me. I bought the largest pumpkin that I've ever bought yesterday at the market in our tiny town. I paid $4.99, which I love! Last year they were expensive. I never bought one...and looked at them longingly in the fields on my way to and fro. I thought of Linus and sitting out there with them waiting for the Great Pumpkin...because I do believe.

The word of the day has been patience. I have heard it in several sentences. Not always the actual word, but the thought, the idea. For me, patience is equal to and directly related to faith. And I have been "ye of little" for a long time now. I think it happened two years ago, when I finally got up the courage to ask for love in my annual Christmas wish, and two months later lost my dog. I was angry. And I never said it. I just questioned and questioned and questioned. And it began a cycle of questioning that I still live with every day. And I understand the substance of faith is about living without question. Believing in what will be and must happen and can come to pass. But, I felt robbed. And so I set up this pattern of no faith. Or some faith. The truth is that I am lost without it. We all are. But, me, I've lived that way. Through some horrible awful stuff, I marched on because I knew God had a plan for me, and I believed it would be the best plan. Now, I feel forgotten.

I've got some soul-searching to do. And in the meantime, I need to make myself believe just for short instances that we all deserve a little goodness, a bit of reprieve, moments of peace and love...you and me. I'll just have to breathe into it, in out, until it brings some harmony to my chaos.

Tail light

The dirt road smells of fox grapes. There are cows now to one side and the spotted dog wants so badly to give chase. So, we go zig-zagging down the road daily as big black cows watch us and probably chuckle to themselves. It isn't fair how gorgeous the day was considering how much havoc those hurricanes are causing. But, it was beautiful. And I skipped book club. We were going to talk about the favorite book of recent years (for me) Eat, Pray, Love. And I was so excited about that. But, a whole new crowd. And a "socialized" bunch...and I didn't feel like fitting in. I can. But, didn't want to. Less and less do I want to fit in to where I don't feel I fit. YOu know? I am less tolerant of the groups that cause me to work a lot for inclusion. This is a lovely group, I am sure. I just couldn't make myself do it.

I realized on Saturday that I want to run from my life right now. I want to leave everything...this house on the dirt road, my job that I have loved, the people that surround me daily. I want the next evolution of my life so badly that I would consider leaving all this behind. And that is crazy. I mean, really. Or is it?

Splinter

A piece of wood caught me in the heel of my thumb a few days ago. Years ago, when I was a child, my dad would have gotten out his pocket knife and dug the splinter out as I shrieked in fear and uncertainty. Now, I am waiting for my body to push it out. Because it will. Foreign substance...it will get spit out of me at some point. I keep my eye on it...waiting.

Same thing goes for this love bug I caught. I am waiting for my soul to spit it out. It's been such a difficult journey. Yes, there are a good many things to have come from it. But, my efforts have gone unrewarded and that stinks. There's no other way to say it. In time, could my crush come around? Yes, I suppose so. But, it's hurting me and I have to decide when to stop that. When to get the pocket knife and dig that ache out of me.

Like the wood in my thumb, I wait for it to be purged by natural instincts. And maybe that will happen. I know the splinter will leave my thumb, because I have experienced this before. And I know that the infatuation will fade. Patiently, I look for progress in that direction. But, it seems like the more I watch, the more the piece of wood settles in-no longer puckered red, but seeming to be a part of me. Same as the crazy infatuation that travels each day with me. Not boiling over, and yet never steaming away to thin air.

I'm learning to live with both of them in the interim. Or I think I must be. Sometimes it feels like I'm just breathing through it. And maybe that's the best I can hope for at the moment.

Mail Check

I've been chasing the moon tonight. I saw it as I was driving home from TND, and then I went out on foot to find it. But, it was hiding and I never did find it. The stars were good company. I am tempted to drive. Tempted to be Wild. Not yet at the driving stage (which is Wild-Stage Center), I am doing the next best thing...which is techno dance music as loud as I can stand it (or what won't encourage the neighbors to visit me). This is soothing because i love it...love to dance, love the beat, love the non-thinking that it brings about in me.

There was a note in a mailbox SOMEWHERE today, and that's what has me a bit wild. I love mail...I just hope everyone else does. Again, I must protect the innocent (namely me) and keep mum on the details. But, it's the postal system that has me all aflutter today. Do you check your mail daily? I do, when I know it's bill time. But, in between, sometimes I let it go a day or two.

The stamp had a small man carrying a big heart.