For a while now, I haven’t felt like—me.
I colored my hair. Maybe this is the cause? I doubt it.
I lost weight. I should be happy about this right? Nah. I feel indifferent.
I had a post go viral. This is what people want! Nope. It’s fine.
I can’t even pinpoint when I started feeling disconnected. It’s confusing because, for the most part, my life is filled with beautiful things right now.
But, alas, here I am without an answer.
This morning Sam and I had .5 seconds alone together. I convinced him to start the morning with a dip in the jacuzzi (the rarest of rare things). We sat in tepid water that was a shade of tadpole green. Who has time to remember to add chlorine to the spa?
It was a cool morning and we connected about all the stuff that we had to do (add- buy chlorine to the list).
The trees around us were so overgrown that the view to the mountains was blocked. So many things are blocking my view right now: the unsettledness in me, the unknowns about the future, the longings inside of me that feel as distant as the mountains.
So many things seem to be blocking me from—me.
And perhaps, this wall between where I am and where I think I ought to be is not meant to be climbed over with my mind, but moved through with my heart.
In many ways, I am the one blocking myself from myself (gosh, that sounds weird!). But, as soon as I start to feel what I feel, my mind jumps in like a critical older sister and tells me—you shouldn’t feel that way, you have so much to be grateful for, don’t complain.
The truth is, I feel sad.
There I said it. I know there are a million reasons to be happy, but way deep inside of me a sadness calls out. So, for a moment, I listen. I listen to her voice and I let her do the leading. That voice, met with God, is a divine invitation.
Listening and even feeling my wordless ache is actually the moment I start to feel like myself again.
The green swamp-like water was evidence of the truth. The truth is—I have so much to give thanks for and I have some grief I need to face. Both are true. Both require attention and care.
When I stop resisting the reality that I can be both grateful & discouraged, I find a moment of reprieve. My discouragement doesn’t cancel my grateful. Nor does my gratitude cancel out my discouragement.
Chlorine is needed in many areas of my life.
I need a divine detergent to bring a clarity.
Coming home to my growing sorrow, is coming home to me.
Disconnection hits a dead end when I drink water from the well of God’s grace.
It’s a grace that doesn’t demand I do anything, but a grace that meets me in slimy water. This grace gift allows me to be simply where I am—sad & satisfied.
And, for a moment, I feel clean.
I feel connected.
If you don’t feel like yourself right now, consider these questions—
What am I resistant to feeling?
Can I give words to my heart?
When was the last time I felt like myself?
This resonates with me a lot today. Today is a major huge trauma anniversary, the birth of my youngest. And although I'm with God, and in therapy, and doing the work to heal, somedays and weeks just suck. And I feel disconnected. I LOVE dialects (I try to put one in every post I write!) and this is one I need today.i thought I'd be further along in healing by now. I thought I'd be back in life. I thought I'd be more in community.... As I anxiously try to not think about my feelings of grief today in order to survive, and feel guilty for not being grateful my son is alive and TWO, maybe instead I'd hold this:
"My discouragement doesn’t cancel my grateful. Nor does my gratitude cancel out my discouragement."
Thank you for letting today be one of your inconsistent posting days. And congratulations on the viral post and spa-sitting!
Feelings attended to give solace. I love you. Mom