It's been nearly a month since I have written here.
It's not because I've been busy. I mean..Make no mistake - I've been busy! But that's not why I've been quiet.
My mind and heart are full. Pulsing and thinking and growing and breaking and crying and aching and catching glimmers of hope and wondering and planning...all the things.
So here's the deal. I can't talk about a lot of it. No - we're not resigning our church and moving to Africa. We're not adopting or having a new baby. It's much bigger than that.
* whisper* I actually think it may be a midlife crisis.
And as much as I love words, I feel like there is almost no way to say what is happening to me. Well. Not safely, at least.
I turned 39 last month. And I'm totally not okay with it. It gives me one measly year to re-evaluate the first half of my life and make course corrections. I know some people live past 80, but frankly, with my family history that isn't likely for me. Cancer. Heart disease. Cancer. Diabetes. Strokes. Drowning. Disease. Stress. Falling off of buildings. Overwork. Car wrecks. Lots of car wrecks. Cancer.
Did I mention cancer? Guess I did. But it's a real thing to me. And I had a scary biopsy just a few weeks after my 5th child was born and right after my mom had cancer removed. So like I said, 40 is probably a good estimate of half.
The journey to this year is so full and private and frankly painful, that I am not free to share. But as I claw my way towards the light, I am finding some clarity. And that's what I came here to share with you.
I've been thinking a lot about dreams. A lot. I'm a dreamer. The worst kind. A romantic, even. And life is not kind to dreamers and romantics. Life likes pragmatics much better. They are never disappointed, because they expect the worst and have a plan in place. So I have gravitated more towards the pragmatic side of things. Less singing and dancing and imagining far-off places. More working. More reality. Less dreaming. And more dishes. Don't get me wrong - I'm not mad at the dishes. Well. Maybe just a little.
I'm just saying that somewhere along the way I have lost pieces of myself. Huge, gaping pieces. And the saddest thing is, I think maybe they were the really beautiful pieces of me. I think there are very few people who really, truly know me and my pieces. And those few are and forever will be precious to me.
But I've been trying to remember who I am. Me - without the forgotten degrees and big house and busy church and 6 kids and Dr. husband. The me who used to randomly burst into song. (Like... always. And loudly, I'm afraid. I'm actually so embarrassed at how obnoxious my dreamy self was.)
|Our engagement - I was 23, he was 21|
As I re-evaluate where I am and who I've become, I am drawn to something different. Something radical. Something - I fear - utterly impossible. I have journaled and meditated and written and listed and categorized and cried and thought and dreamed. There are so many dreams still buried inside of me. Most of them impractical. (Anybody know how to get an audition appointment to sing for a Disney Movie?) And I have yet to do the work of unpacking those stuffed dreams and feeling them, looking at them with deep care and respect and making hard decisions about them.
But my BASICS have become crystal clear to me. I have always kind of reverted back to the whole
thing. That's all well and good, but it doesn't necessarily equal wholeness. I know it's supposed to, but I'm tired of "supposed to." Real tired of it. And things need a little shaking up. I'm stuck. And it's not working for me. I mean. Lots of things are working. I love my home systems and my priorities for my kids and many of the things I choose to do for others. But honestly, I haven't taken very good care of my very own heart. And it finally has reached the point that I cannot stuff it any longer.
This list will most likely be quite underwhelming for those who have had the unfortunate experience of slogging this far through my mid-life crisis blabbers. They are fairly common goals and desires. But I can assure you, they are not common to me. They are precious and dear to me. And hard. Like I said - I'm afraid some of them are nearly impossible.
They are basic. And utterly rare. And simple. And deep and passionate. And really, truly - not simple at all. My kids and husband and church are not necessarily listed in here. Because this is my feeble and confused attempt at self care. Please don't think that means I don't care about the others in my life or that they are of less priority. (Why am I caring what you think? If you think that about me, you don't know me at all anyway! That's the kind of thing I'm just completely weary of. I officially don't care what you think of me or this post. That was a lie.) This is just a different thing. I guess you'd have to be there with me to understand.
I'm done vomiting words and ready to go to snuggle with my 3 year old and sleep until my sick one year old wakes up crying and coughing. I may or may not ever return to explain my 4 dreams. But I am tucking them in gently and taking them with me.
I hope you do the same with yours.