Today (Friday), I was going to publish this poem as an ode to someone, but yesterday, I deleted it before it published it.
And now, today is yesterday. And maybe I will publish that poem…someday.
I’m in a little tiny place of confusion and flux.
Yesterday (Thursday), I was faced with yet another disappointing relationship demise. It’s yet another link in this long chain of disappointments that made me ask the heavens:
what is this all for?
And it’s not just in love. It’s just with everything.
Today, I bounced back pretty quickly, much to my surprise. Apparently, when you just let yourself be in your feelings, then it’s easier to surf through them.
It could be because I had more of a paper cut than an actual deep wound on my heart. But it’s not like paper cuts don’t hurt.
It could also be that I’m almost resigned to things falling apart and people leaving.
Yesterday wasn’t the end of the world. It was just the end of me thinking I’d be able to get out of this vortex of peculiarity and pain.
This whole blog is just a plea for this cycle of shittiness to stop. I realized that I had taken a vacation from this living nightmare cycle for about 3 weeks.
And it was so nice.
But now I’m back.
I don’t know if I just haven’t had the wherewithal, the gumption, the moxie to really start following my dreams post-grad-school. The only goal has been survival, but I can’t do that anymore.
I’m not completely blaming my own circumstances for what went down yesterday (which you can read about if you become a $10/month patron).
That was probably a long time coming. And that’s OK.
But at the same time, that this…thing…started at all was a sign that my shitty circumstances aren’t holding me back from bringing me to the right people.
Still, I feel stuck…not necessarily even in circumstances, but that I’m in some spiritual school that I didn’t sign up for. And I’m not even in the mood to learn anymore. It’s exhausting to seek or derive meaning from every event.
Sometimes things just suck.
I want my daily circumstances to not trip me up so much that I can’t focus on anything else. It makes for a dull and unattractive me.
But here I am again, being asked to trust that everything is working out as it should.
When bills are hard to pay and lapse…
When I’m (thankfully gladly) eating ramen…
When I have to sign up for writing tasks I don’t like doing because they pay poorly…
When I seem to keep attracting men who are also somehow sweet and kind, but also going through some sort of spiritual transformation that keeps them at arm’s length…
When I live in a house that seems to never be right for longer than a few days…
When my body seems to have a mind of its own…
When friends keep coming and going but never stay…
When I’m doing my best despite all of these failures and shortcomings…
There’s the holy and divine invitation to trust, right there, in every one of those circumstances.
Meanwhile, this is me:
So I was in the middle of writing this last night, and then things changed again. And that’s…actually OK. It was good that things changed. And there’s probably going to be another somewhat vague blog post about that.
There’s a bit of an exhaustion that can come when you live in a transitional space.
I just want to get to somewhere better (don’t we all?).
Still, with all of these challenges and opportunities, I have to trust that not only does the Universe/God/Source knows what she’s doing, but that I know what I’m doing, too.
And I wish I were more elegant with this spiritual journey, but I’m just fumbling towards some truths, along some hazy, washed out plumb lines.
Even as my arms hold so much yearning and loss, there’s so much more space for wonder, miracles, and just good ole sustenance.
Things…the things that I want…they just aren’t coming as quickly as I want, but they are coming. And I have to keep rising up to meet them as they come.
I also have to hope that they do come. And the anticipation isn’t wasted. It’s used as fuel to bring those dreams home.
To keep myself open to all the good, even as I’ve endured a lot of bad…that’s where the rub is, the gold is, the real life is.
And maybe that’s the point.
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