Delusions of grandeur make me feel a lot better about myself.
- Jane Wagner
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Stop! In the Name of... What?
It's a funny thing when your heart has decided upon someone. Because no matter what the rest of you thinks, the heart will undoubtedly continue on its wayward path. Often misguided. Usually along a winding, convoluted road of no return. I wonder if my heart is at that place right now.
The man I have decided against still makes my heart skip when he says my name; still brings a flush to my cheeks whenever I see him; and still steals my breath when I'm not careful. I want to be indifferent towards him, but I can't.
I want out of this, but how? How do I move on from someplace I never quite set foot upon? How do I stop the daydreams? How do I stop the waiting and hoping? How do I stop him?
The man I have decided against still makes my heart skip when he says my name; still brings a flush to my cheeks whenever I see him; and still steals my breath when I'm not careful. I want to be indifferent towards him, but I can't.
I want out of this, but how? How do I move on from someplace I never quite set foot upon? How do I stop the daydreams? How do I stop the waiting and hoping? How do I stop him?
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Contemplation is Name of the Game
At Waterloo, the English troops obeying orders fell on their faces for a time and let the hot fire of the French artillery pass over them. Then they sprang to their feet and rushed to the thickest of the fight and beat back their foes. The Lord wants His people flat on their faces, before they attempt to meet the great crises of life. - A.T. Pierson
God's people are always in process. Jim's closing words today at church. They're still ringing in my ears right now as I sit here typing...
I'm realizing that I've spent far too much time pacing back and forth or tapping my foot impatiently waiting on the Lord to give me the things I want (the things I "need"). Job security. Financial security. A love life. Marriage. Children. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
Maybe it's time I stop and stare at bit more at the Cross and less in the mirror...
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Auf Weidersehen. Adieu.
Yesterday I watched as the last of the people in my section of the company said their farewells. It's a sad thing to watch colleagues (friends) pack up their things and leave. It's sadder still knowing they had no choice in the matter -- the unfortunate side of company downsizing.
And, while I remain, I wonder at my longevity here, in this city and at this company. I wonder if I'll have a say when it's my time to leave or if, like them, I'll be told that "there's nothing left for you here."
This afternoon I head down to East Nashville for the third time this week to hang out with one of my friends who is leaving for Portland, OR in a matter of days. I'm trying to prepare myself so I won't cry, but who knows what's to happen.
I really hate good-byes...
And, while I remain, I wonder at my longevity here, in this city and at this company. I wonder if I'll have a say when it's my time to leave or if, like them, I'll be told that "there's nothing left for you here."
This afternoon I head down to East Nashville for the third time this week to hang out with one of my friends who is leaving for Portland, OR in a matter of days. I'm trying to prepare myself so I won't cry, but who knows what's to happen.
I really hate good-byes...
Ants in Your Pants
Lately, I've been a bit restless, a tad antsy. Not knowing what's to come and living in a fog of confusion and unanswered questions.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
All Quiet on the Western Front
Tonight I met up with two girlfriends at a small Japanese restaurant near my first "home" here in Nashville.
I sat and listened to these beautiful girls share stories of the new love interests in their lives; watched as each giddily read texts from said men and sighed in anticipation. As they shared and compared notes, I sat quiet. There's really nothing noteworthy to report here. All's quiet on the Western Front.
They inquired about my love life and probed as best they could. They told me how ridiculous I was being when I joked that I repel men. But really, when you've no other proof you start to assess and make assumptions. And sometimes, these assumptions aren't good ones.
Oh, I could have told them about the man I'm still quietly interested in. I could share about how I daydream about tender moments with my Yet-To-Be, but I refrained. Too shy to risk the ridicule; too nervous to spill the beans.
I sat and listened to these beautiful girls share stories of the new love interests in their lives; watched as each giddily read texts from said men and sighed in anticipation. As they shared and compared notes, I sat quiet. There's really nothing noteworthy to report here. All's quiet on the Western Front.
They inquired about my love life and probed as best they could. They told me how ridiculous I was being when I joked that I repel men. But really, when you've no other proof you start to assess and make assumptions. And sometimes, these assumptions aren't good ones.
Oh, I could have told them about the man I'm still quietly interested in. I could share about how I daydream about tender moments with my Yet-To-Be, but I refrained. Too shy to risk the ridicule; too nervous to spill the beans.
Red Light, Green Light
Sometimes all you really need is a definitive gesture.
A sign of some sort. That's all I'm after.
A sign of some sort. That's all I'm after.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Do You Have to Let It Linger?
Late last night, and into the wee hours of the morning, as rain soaked the earth once more, tears soaked my pillow and my sleep-filled eyes.
I had a dream that I loved someone. Dearly loved him. We were happy. I believed he truly loved me as well. And he did... or so I thought until a friend swept in. He fled his heart (and mine) for hers. I was left picking up pieces of my broken heart and our broken life. Vanishing. When I awoke, I was so heartbroken, so convinced that what I had dreamed was reality, that I cried.
Perhaps there is a small part of me that fears my love life will resemble my mother's and it was only in that safe place, the foggy places of our sub-conscious, that my heart decided to dwell upon it.
How lovely. How lovely indeed...
I had a dream that I loved someone. Dearly loved him. We were happy. I believed he truly loved me as well. And he did... or so I thought until a friend swept in. He fled his heart (and mine) for hers. I was left picking up pieces of my broken heart and our broken life. Vanishing. When I awoke, I was so heartbroken, so convinced that what I had dreamed was reality, that I cried.
Perhaps there is a small part of me that fears my love life will resemble my mother's and it was only in that safe place, the foggy places of our sub-conscious, that my heart decided to dwell upon it.
How lovely. How lovely indeed...
Friday, May 14, 2010
When In Doubt... Retreat?
Is it strange that whenever I am remotely attracted to someone, I suddenly become deathly afraid that I'll be found out (by him and others)? Terrified that my tiny heart will be trampled and I'll be scoffed at? Fearful of rejection or thought a fool?
Some may say that "it's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all", but I think the verdict is still out on that.
Some may say that "it's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all", but I think the verdict is still out on that.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Pandora's Box
There are a couple recent posts I've taken down and kept hidden. Partly for fear that I'll be discovered. Partly because I'm afraid that by putting them out in the open, anything could happen - good or bad.
I don't like the Unknown, it doesn't always play out in our favor.
Just look at what happened to Pandora.
I don't like the Unknown, it doesn't always play out in our favor.
Just look at what happened to Pandora.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
The Imaginarium of the Heart
Men are confusing. The whole lot of them. Just as you’ve decided to not like one – and have made every effort to move on – he will do something, say something, reveal something about himself that will cause the frosty disposition you've grown comfortable building, to thaw for him again.
The man I had liked, then decided I mustn’t, and from whom I have kept a very professional distance, let loose a side of himself I hadn’t had the opportunity to see until this week. As we talked, his words were warm and comforting like summer rain. We spoke of things outside of our respective jobs: shared interests in photography, writing and other arts, cooking, stargazing, and moon-chasing. He looked at me and with all sincerity, told me to run, to seek out and hone my gifts. He was excited for me. He made me want to be excited again.
He told me how much he admired my imagination, the ability I had to step outside my surroundings, and to lose myself in thought or stories. And as much as I do enjoy this particular quirk, I wanted to tell him how dangerous it was for me. To always walk the fine line between reality and dream, of truth and imagination, of the tangible and the ephemeral, is to allow for vulnerability, hesitation, disappointment and a constant, nearly insatiable yearning.
It’s strange. As much as I enjoy these feelings -- the flirting and smiles, the shared laughter and occasional brushes -- I am still so hesitant, still so fearful. I realize all the more in my melancholic self-consciousness, that I am still so very naïve when it comes to these sorts of pursuits of the heart.
I am in danger of falling before any foundation is set. Every word uttered, every glance and grin, every hearty laugh, will have me undone soon enough.
It's all fluff for the foolish.
The man I had liked, then decided I mustn’t, and from whom I have kept a very professional distance, let loose a side of himself I hadn’t had the opportunity to see until this week. As we talked, his words were warm and comforting like summer rain. We spoke of things outside of our respective jobs: shared interests in photography, writing and other arts, cooking, stargazing, and moon-chasing. He looked at me and with all sincerity, told me to run, to seek out and hone my gifts. He was excited for me. He made me want to be excited again.
He told me how much he admired my imagination, the ability I had to step outside my surroundings, and to lose myself in thought or stories. And as much as I do enjoy this particular quirk, I wanted to tell him how dangerous it was for me. To always walk the fine line between reality and dream, of truth and imagination, of the tangible and the ephemeral, is to allow for vulnerability, hesitation, disappointment and a constant, nearly insatiable yearning.
It’s strange. As much as I enjoy these feelings -- the flirting and smiles, the shared laughter and occasional brushes -- I am still so hesitant, still so fearful. I realize all the more in my melancholic self-consciousness, that I am still so very naïve when it comes to these sorts of pursuits of the heart.
I am in danger of falling before any foundation is set. Every word uttered, every glance and grin, every hearty laugh, will have me undone soon enough.
It's all fluff for the foolish.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Life in the Minor Keys
I. am. drained. Exhausted. Fighting to stand and breathe. Falling apart.
For the past week or so, an all too familiar and never welcomed companion came to visit me. Sorrow. That invisible beast that burdens your soul and causes your feet to drag, your eyes to well up with tears, your shoulders to slump. The stress of work and then a minor tiff with a friend just about did me in. It was all I could do to NOT weep at my desk.
I'm beginning to think I may have mild depression. (Don't know why I just shared that. Fortunately for me and my pride, only 2 people read this, so, I suppose, I'm pretty safe.) If there was even a nano-second of silence, and my mind was quiet, I could feel the pressure of hot tears collecting just behind my eyes. My mind would start to wander to dark places as I desperately tried to quiet the voice inside my head and ask the Lord to deafen the cacophony with the soothing sound of His. No comfort could be found. Not in the warm embraces, affections or kind words of friends. Not in the sunshine. Nadie. My only solace were a few minor chords I strummed, then plucked, on my trusty guitar.
Life in the minor keys... D minor to be exact. It's pre-tty awesome.
For the past week or so, an all too familiar and never welcomed companion came to visit me. Sorrow. That invisible beast that burdens your soul and causes your feet to drag, your eyes to well up with tears, your shoulders to slump. The stress of work and then a minor tiff with a friend just about did me in. It was all I could do to NOT weep at my desk.
I'm beginning to think I may have mild depression. (Don't know why I just shared that. Fortunately for me and my pride, only 2 people read this, so, I suppose, I'm pretty safe.) If there was even a nano-second of silence, and my mind was quiet, I could feel the pressure of hot tears collecting just behind my eyes. My mind would start to wander to dark places as I desperately tried to quiet the voice inside my head and ask the Lord to deafen the cacophony with the soothing sound of His. No comfort could be found. Not in the warm embraces, affections or kind words of friends. Not in the sunshine. Nadie. My only solace were a few minor chords I strummed, then plucked, on my trusty guitar.
Life in the minor keys... D minor to be exact. It's pre-tty awesome.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Birds of a Feather
Lately the urge for future things has grown stronger. Case in point: While on my way to get my hair cut this morning, I drove past the cutest little Arts&Crafts-style bungalow. There standing on the front porch was a man holding his baby boy as he discovered the new numbers on the front of the house, running his tiny little fingers across the grooves and layers of paint. My heart skipped and a pang resounded in the deepest parts of me. And for a moment, impatient hope ran a muck as I daydreamed about my future family -- about the still faceless dark-haired man, the one who haunts me in my scarce dreams and of the tiny ones I'll carry and hold...
They say that Spring stirs something in you, that it awakens the soul and warms the heart that ran cold all winter. I'm starting to think they (whoever they are) may be on to something.
They say that Spring stirs something in you, that it awakens the soul and warms the heart that ran cold all winter. I'm starting to think they (whoever they are) may be on to something.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Ho-Hummage
I sit here in Fido on a rainy Sunday afternoon staring out at Hillsboro Village, watching as couples clutch each other under umbrellas while cars slosh by.
There's something so calming about rainy days. Something so blissfully relaxing. Maybe it's in the way raindrops dance on the pavement. Or in the way they collect and flow ever so slowly. Streams against sidewalks.
It's the sort of day that makes you want to curl up by a fire, book in hand, warm cider at the ready.
----
I spent a few hours this afternoon watching a handful of toddlers and infants while their parents mingled at an introductory event for a group trip our church is sponsoring this fall. While watching the kiddies, the lone boy, 8-month old Charles, fell asleep resting on my shoulder.
It's captivating the way a baby will so trustingly lay his tired little head on your shoulder, right in the crook of your neck. The way his little hands pulse and gently grasp onto the strands of your hair. The sweet sighs and suckling sounds that come softly as he drifts off to Wonderland.
Holding him then, watching him as he slept so peacefully, I thought about the little ones I'll have one day. And of the family I would like to have.
There's something so calming about rainy days. Something so blissfully relaxing. Maybe it's in the way raindrops dance on the pavement. Or in the way they collect and flow ever so slowly. Streams against sidewalks.
It's the sort of day that makes you want to curl up by a fire, book in hand, warm cider at the ready.
----
I spent a few hours this afternoon watching a handful of toddlers and infants while their parents mingled at an introductory event for a group trip our church is sponsoring this fall. While watching the kiddies, the lone boy, 8-month old Charles, fell asleep resting on my shoulder.
It's captivating the way a baby will so trustingly lay his tired little head on your shoulder, right in the crook of your neck. The way his little hands pulse and gently grasp onto the strands of your hair. The sweet sighs and suckling sounds that come softly as he drifts off to Wonderland.
Holding him then, watching him as he slept so peacefully, I thought about the little ones I'll have one day. And of the family I would like to have.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Silver Threads and Golden Beams
There is much unrest in my heart as of late. Job security and comfort wane with each passing day. Each day thoughts of uncertainty and what-ifs plague my soul.
Every day is filled with grayness. Light hides itself. It’s cold and dark and dank.
Today, much to our surprise and shock, the first round of lay-offs started. They were done discreetly. So quietly, in fact, that I was ignorant of them until late in the afternoon when I’d overheard some co-workers’ discussion. The pile of boxes in the back room sit ominously now. I’m worried.
Just now, walking down the hall a short while ago, my eyes caught sight of the horizon just before dusk. The gleam of gold breaking the darkness of day tells this worrisome soul that there is a silver lining. Just beyond my reach, but near enough to give hope on gloomy days such as these.
In all of this, I’m forcing myself to remember the truth of the matter: That I am loved and cared for by an infinite, immeasurably gracious and faithful Savior. That He desires my heart to race towards Him. To hear His footsteps as he runs towards. To behold Him and be held in His gaze.
Every day is filled with grayness. Light hides itself. It’s cold and dark and dank.
Today, much to our surprise and shock, the first round of lay-offs started. They were done discreetly. So quietly, in fact, that I was ignorant of them until late in the afternoon when I’d overheard some co-workers’ discussion. The pile of boxes in the back room sit ominously now. I’m worried.
Just now, walking down the hall a short while ago, my eyes caught sight of the horizon just before dusk. The gleam of gold breaking the darkness of day tells this worrisome soul that there is a silver lining. Just beyond my reach, but near enough to give hope on gloomy days such as these.
In all of this, I’m forcing myself to remember the truth of the matter: That I am loved and cared for by an infinite, immeasurably gracious and faithful Savior. That He desires my heart to race towards Him. To hear His footsteps as he runs towards. To behold Him and be held in His gaze.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Confessions of a Relationship-aholic
As most take on the daunting task of pursuing New Year's resolutions, I reflect on the past year -- of all that's transpired, with and without.
This year I plan on continuing on this journey towards openness and active love. Quality over quantity. But, even as I resolve my heart to do this, there is some amount of hesitation, lament and... skepticism.
To pursue the heart of Christ is hard enough. But, to live out that same love for others, is perhaps the hardest thing to do. It requires a lot of patience, which I'm sadly coming to realize wanes each day. Compassion, forgiveness and humility are also things that don't come as naturally as I once thought. Sadly.
This year, as I take this bull by the horns, I realize that many relationships will have to fall through the cracks. Many, in fact, already have. It's necessary I suppose so that I can allow God to nurture and deepen the relationships that matter most. The rest will scatter like chaff... my frail heart hurts to think about it.
Before I end my nonsensical confession, I leave you with an article that perhaps best describes what I long for (and need) in every relationship I care about. Please read it, reflect on it, use is as a barometer for every relationship in your life -- the ones you care about and want to remain anyway.
This year I plan on continuing on this journey towards openness and active love. Quality over quantity. But, even as I resolve my heart to do this, there is some amount of hesitation, lament and... skepticism.
To pursue the heart of Christ is hard enough. But, to live out that same love for others, is perhaps the hardest thing to do. It requires a lot of patience, which I'm sadly coming to realize wanes each day. Compassion, forgiveness and humility are also things that don't come as naturally as I once thought. Sadly.
This year, as I take this bull by the horns, I realize that many relationships will have to fall through the cracks. Many, in fact, already have. It's necessary I suppose so that I can allow God to nurture and deepen the relationships that matter most. The rest will scatter like chaff... my frail heart hurts to think about it.
Before I end my nonsensical confession, I leave you with an article that perhaps best describes what I long for (and need) in every relationship I care about. Please read it, reflect on it, use is as a barometer for every relationship in your life -- the ones you care about and want to remain anyway.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Stuck in a Moment...
... and I can't get out of it.
I'm realizing more and more these days that I am a limited being. In every sense of the word:
Physically
I hobble to and fro on a knee that's still trying to figure out if it wants to cooperate with the rest of my body and allow me the chance to be fully mobile once more. I want to run and swim and walk without wincing when you buckle, damn you!
Mentally
There are days I'm almost positive I'm showing signs of early dementia. Have to be... What other excuse could there be for constantly losing the remote? Or my train of thought for that matter?
Relationally
Perhaps the area of greatest deficiency. In looking at my heart the past few days/weeks, I realize more and more that I'm not as nice as you all think I am. It scares me to think that I may possibly be incapable of love. Real love. The kind that gives without expecting. That is unconditional. Without limits. That forgives and is understanding. That kind of love. And sadly, I feel undeserving of it a lot lately.
I know this particular deficiency (my limited, stunted ability to love others) is due in large part to my lackluster pursuit of Christ these days. I don't know what's going on within me or what these invisible, seemingly impenitrable barriers before me are, but... I want -- nay, need -- to break out.
I want to love selflessly and unconditionally as You do, Lord... I just don't know how.
I'm realizing more and more these days that I am a limited being. In every sense of the word:
Physically
I hobble to and fro on a knee that's still trying to figure out if it wants to cooperate with the rest of my body and allow me the chance to be fully mobile once more. I want to run and swim and walk without wincing when you buckle, damn you!
Mentally
There are days I'm almost positive I'm showing signs of early dementia. Have to be... What other excuse could there be for constantly losing the remote? Or my train of thought for that matter?
Relationally
Perhaps the area of greatest deficiency. In looking at my heart the past few days/weeks, I realize more and more that I'm not as nice as you all think I am. It scares me to think that I may possibly be incapable of love. Real love. The kind that gives without expecting. That is unconditional. Without limits. That forgives and is understanding. That kind of love. And sadly, I feel undeserving of it a lot lately.
I know this particular deficiency (my limited, stunted ability to love others) is due in large part to my lackluster pursuit of Christ these days. I don't know what's going on within me or what these invisible, seemingly impenitrable barriers before me are, but... I want -- nay, need -- to break out.
I want to love selflessly and unconditionally as You do, Lord... I just don't know how.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Somewhere In Between
I've been feeling at a loss a lot lately. Displaced. Unloved. Forgotten.
Truthfully, as much as I'd rather not admit it, I sometimes need to know I matter to you -- even if just a little bit. A kind word. A phone call. A smile or hug to know that I'm not as alone as I'm feeling these days...
It's tiring for people like me to constantly be the ones reaching out. Hold out your arms long enough and they'll start shaking and ache from exhaustion.
That's where I'm at. Exhausted. Tired of reaching out only to have nothing there to grasp.
Everything inside wants to just retract from everything... Live in my head. In my tiny, solitary world. To rely on me and me alone. To not care at all for anything/-one anymore. To be like the rest of the world and think of myself and my agenda and nothing else.
I hate this place I'm finding myself these days.
Hate it.
Truthfully, as much as I'd rather not admit it, I sometimes need to know I matter to you -- even if just a little bit. A kind word. A phone call. A smile or hug to know that I'm not as alone as I'm feeling these days...
It's tiring for people like me to constantly be the ones reaching out. Hold out your arms long enough and they'll start shaking and ache from exhaustion.
That's where I'm at. Exhausted. Tired of reaching out only to have nothing there to grasp.
Everything inside wants to just retract from everything... Live in my head. In my tiny, solitary world. To rely on me and me alone. To not care at all for anything/-one anymore. To be like the rest of the world and think of myself and my agenda and nothing else.
I hate this place I'm finding myself these days.
Hate it.
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