I am full of thoughts and full of words, buzzing with memories and stories to tell. Beginning a stream of consciousness post in this state could be dangerous – I sense a long form piece coming on. Or a smattering of thoughts combusting.
Honestly, it’s been too long. Too long since I’ve gotten these words off my chest and down on paper, to be filed in the archives of the universe and heard by God. An empty file for August awaits. It’s time for honesty.
I could write about school. About how I am not going back to school as a student this month for the first time in eighteen years – EIGHTEEN YEARS – and how that blows my mind. How happy I am to be finished. See ya, masters degree – I am happy where I am.
Or I could write about centering prayer, and how it is lifting me up from the mire of baseless fears that have been creeping up on me from time to time. How I am deeply in need of a calm I can call on when fear knocks on my door, when I find my hands sweaty and shaking on the railings of a narrow stairway high up in a downtown building.
I could write about how much I’ve grown spiritually and personally since finishing school and getting married. I feel like I am a shining example of how reducing stress makes a person happier, healthier, and feeling brand new. I also have been living in the blessing of having an unconditionally loving husband who makes me feel more alive, and more myself. I feel finally rooted in a place where I have been able to grow into and even thrive as the woman I want to be.
I could write about how I’ve realized the stages of grief I’ve gone through over the last ten years after my dad stepped out of my life and my mom got remarried. Is that why stepdads are called that? Because they step in when another steps out? Like a country line dance stomping all over my heart. Years of putting off the problem and waiting for it to fix itself finally lead to realizing the relationship is forever broken, and finally, mourning. The mourning comes now. The truth about hope is that it has an expiration date.
There is sad, but there is also happy. I could write about my piano studio and how happy it makes me to see it grow and see doors opening on every side of life letting the joy in, allowing me to become a leader and a professional in my community. And allowing me to be a part of students’ lives, too – I get to encourage these young people every week and make them feel special and smart. To me, there is no higher calling.
But how do I write this post without it sounding like a diary entry or the whine of a few loose cogs clanking around this wheel… I write, as I pray, to become unscattered.
Oh to reign in the thoughts. Let me be the hub and not the spokes.