There are some days where I just want to throw my hands up in the air and scream at the top of my lungs, "It's just not fair. I'm done." And by done, I mean being conveniently and thoroughly hit by a bus. And my first thought about how people will react to my bus-wish sentiment is that it is really morbid. And of course it's morbid. When you really start to think about life and death and being hit by a bus it just sounds (and feels) awful and sad and hopeless. But for so long, I've believed it's not something we talk about. Our society doesn't give us safe places to talk about it. There is an understanding that the frustration with life and feelings and misunderstood health issues that drone on and on for years and years needs to be conveniently packaged and placed underneath the bed. To exist, but not to be seen. To take up space, but to be ignored except for every once in a while when the cobwebs need to be cleaned or the room is rearranged. You smile even when you don't have the strength to smile because you dig deep within yourself, find those bootstraps, pull yourself up to smile and go along your supposedly merry way.
No but really, there are those days. The "just not fair" days, where I allow myself to go down that overgrown, root-infested (the kind that will cause you to trip and fall even though they're practically invisible) path and I start to wonder what I did to deserve the pain, confusion and anger that I'm experiencing. Having existed in a performance-based mentality for, well, my entire life has caused me to question where and when it was that I messed up so badly that I have to pay for it like this. But there is part of me that just doesn't buy it: the philosophy/doctrine of a retaliatory, punishing deity. Part of me doesn't buy it because stress happens. Sickness happens. Shit happens. Life happens. It is both scientific and emotional. It's messy. However, I'm starting to believe that contrary to many theologies, we're not puppets being manipulated and cajoled into being and experiencing tit for tat. But with all that happens in life, I think I'm just in the middle of the storm of all of that happening. The more intense the happening gets, the more control I try to exercise on my life around me but I'm slowly starting to learn that trying to exercise control only makes the happening more intense. So it's been this vicious cycle I've kept myself in. In some ways, it's all I know. It is my reality. My pain and my discomfort has become comfortable. And then when I try to break out of it, I realize I'm not really prepared and my equilibrium falters and the glass shatters and it all gets messy again.
As we grow, we develop a way of reacting and responding, a way of
processing or filing our experiences and the information that is poured
into our hearts and souls. And while some may glean and can determine which ways are healthy for processing and filing and which ways are not, others take what they are taught without question and just push all of those experiences and information and shove them down into the deepest, darkest recess of their soul. That was me. Be a good christian girl by being perfect. Literally, be perfect. Just trying to be perfect isn't actually enough.
But the paradigm is shifting. The theology that dictated much of how I have lived my life is crumbling around me as I am walking in to truth. Instead of striving for perfection, I'm considering stepping out as me - as Esther - no pretenses, no aim for perfection. Living with the intention of enjoying moments and experiencing them as the magic that they truly are. Asking the questions that I stifled for fear of sounding rebellious or looking like an idiot. Trying new things without being concerned about how the experts in that field - or even other novices - judge my ability or raw talent. Allowing myself to have opinions and give them a voice, instead of stifling them (especially when they are contrary to the popular opinion). And the beauty of the truth that I am stepping into is that that I am divinely loved, I have always been loved, and I will continue to be loved. Now onto unearthing the ever elusive self love.
But the paradigm is shifting. The theology that dictated much of how I have lived my life is crumbling around me as I am walking in to truth. Instead of striving for perfection, I'm considering stepping out as me - as Esther - no pretenses, no aim for perfection. Living with the intention of enjoying moments and experiencing them as the magic that they truly are. Asking the questions that I stifled for fear of sounding rebellious or looking like an idiot. Trying new things without being concerned about how the experts in that field - or even other novices - judge my ability or raw talent. Allowing myself to have opinions and give them a voice, instead of stifling them (especially when they are contrary to the popular opinion). And the beauty of the truth that I am stepping into is that that I am divinely loved, I have always been loved, and I will continue to be loved. Now onto unearthing the ever elusive self love.