It has been quite a while since my last post. These past months have been nothing if not strenuous. Certainly they've been filled to the brim with beautiful memories that I will cherish forever but they have taken a toll on my soul.
As I sit here now just taking it all in ... I feel heavy. It's a freeing kind of weight though.
For months now I've been trying so hard to : make sense of it all, plan my life, motivate myself, heal myself, correct myself, be more, do more, constantly form myself into what I want to be.
.But I can't do that.
Nothing is in my direct power. I can not make a single thing happen on my own. And I guess it just took a year of incomprehensible circumstances for me to realize I need to start learning what it means to be powerless.
In all seriousness, having no idea what to do, how to do it, or when you should start, simply SUCKS. I've found when I don't know what and don't know how exactly to figure what to do, I do nothing. I had high hopes for my time in Salt Lake City; healing, growth, transformation. But in reality it has been me running. Running away physically, yes, but even more I've been running away emotionally.
After we broke the engagement... I was truly a mess. I cannot express to you just the intensity of emotions I felt in the weeks and months that followed. I ... I found that a breaking heart is not just an emotional ache. More than once I found myself curled in a ball on the couch literally unable to move while I shook uncontrollably with what felt like fever chills. There is no way to process that kind of pain. It was terrifying. Emotions, I decided, were not worth becoming crippled. So I shut it off. Everything. Any deep feeling weather good or bad was off limits. I could practically draw you a picture of the huge, thick wall I'd built within myself.
This wall? It's still there. I can see it. There's cracks in it now but I'm still unable to level it. The very worst part of this wall is I've put it between God and I. Sometimes, I feel him reaching through the cracks, asking, pleading that I join him again. And for a moment I reach too but then I'm stricken with fear and I retreat back to my dark corner which I've deemed safe. "I can't hurt like that again," I tell myself. "If I go that deep again my body will give out. I won't survive."
I've been trying in my own power to demolish this wall but I might as well be using wet noodles in place of jackhammers with as much as I can do. I can't say I know how to make the transition from pasta to wrecking balls but... in all my travels these few months I think the biggest thing I've learned is how to start feeling again.
Awe, wonder, home-sickness, love, friendship, loneliness, unsure, confidence, joyfulness, fun, connection.
God, here's a crack in my wall. Grab my hand and don't let me go. I'm going to resist, I'm so scared but I want to be with you in the high places and the low places. As long as I am with you, my feet will always have a place to stand and my hands will always have yours to hold. Bring me out of this self made dungeon! I want to see the light of your garden again. HOSANNA!
