The gypsy in me.

Today I awoke a bit healthier than I have done in the last week or so. But what I awoke to was a longing for the visceral again. For actually seeing the world. Walking it. Interacting with it. Tasting it’s flavors. Understanding bits of it. Definitely appreciating it.

When I get this feeling at this level, it actually physically hurts that I'm not attaining it. It’s the deepest, most intense longing in me. It goes beyond even the desire for companionship.

It’s not about making my mark on the world. My time here on this planet, in the scope of all of history and all that is to come, is miniscule at most. It’s about BEING in it. Experiencing it. Knowing, truly knowing, the wonder of it during these moments I'm privileged to be in it. Glimpsing it’s beauty in this moment. Marveling at the cultures I encounter. And touching as much of it as I possibly can.

This. This is what drives me. What feeds me. I spend my time downloading books to my reader or films to my external hard drive in anticipation of the first step of this journey. Yet, in reality when I go I won’t give a crap about these things. I’ll care about engaging with what is around me. Not what is made to entertain. (Not that I obviously don’t enjoy these things… but they often can dilute the preciousness of the moment as well as suck time from this sacred interaction.)

I used the word “sacred.” I do see being deeply engaged in each moment as spiritual encounter – as the most profound way to honor the divine, or at least to honor this mysterious gift called life.

But I digress. This drive, this desire for a nomadic existence is both marvelous and maddening. How do I support myself financially is the most trying part to figure out. (Yes, I am open to suggestions – and especially connections.)

It is isolating, too. Many people I meet think it’s a great dream, but then have a lot of negative comments about it. They even become angry. I do understand. They have made choices in life that have allowed them to walk away from their dreams. To encounter someone who still holds to theirs is not always comfortable. It is only hard when I get discouraged and haven’t someone who believes in me and my goals to encourage me. (I’m so very grateful I have a few wonderful women who do that for me now. What a true blessing.)

Whatever this wayfaring passion is, it is my objective; my goal. my future. I just wish so much I knew how be in it now rather than always, ever “moving towards it.”

The weight of me.

I thought with the New Year I would start afresh. An invigorated focus on my goals in life brings me back with a new look for the blog and a refreshed sense of purpose for my writing. But first, a reflection…

The last few months I have had some personal breakthroughs I didn’t even know I was needing. (Sometimes those are the most awe inspiring.) These epiphanies have centered me as never before.

What it comes down to is a knowing myself completely at the deepest levels of my being. Really being good with who that is. This is an all-encompassing knowing; a resting in and embracing of my whole self. This includes recognizing and appreciating my place in the journey of life, loving my body just as it is, and being both contented with and excited about my spiritual path with the wrestling and expanding it involves.

This sounds so corny, really. But it was born of coming the other side of an intense trauma after finally truly healing. In that final emergence from the dark waters of that churning ocean of betrayal, despair, and brokenness I was lost in, with that first step on dry land I felt the weight of me. By that I mean I knew the depth of my courage as well as just how intense and incredible my strength is. That was my “grounding.”

One interesting thing about that ocean: you feel so overwhelmed in the depths of it when you can’t see the shore as the waves are pounding you and threatening to take you under, but the very hardest part is when you finally stand in the shallows of the tide and are taking that long walk to the beaches. Because you feel the sand between your toes as you step, you think you are on land, so the effort is all the more frustrating as you fight to bring your legs forward through the eddying riptides. Never have you worked so hard, yet you don’t realize you really aren’t out of it yet. It’s only on that first step out of the waters that you find that true freedom.

And that’s the moment you know. You know just how fierce you are. You know it’s not an invincibility but an endurance. You feel your strength in every molecule and know… that you can. Who you are is enough – more than enough. Whatever comes next, strenuous and painful or freeing and joyful, will not be beyond you. You can.

Edith Södergran said:

“My self-confidence comes from the fact that I have discovered my own dimensions. It does not behoove me to make myself smaller than I am.”

I know my own dimensions now. In fact, I OWN my own dimensions. I revel in them. So I walk tall. Because I am tall.

The way here.

I’ve been going through a bit of a transformation lately. It’s been a few years in the process, but the chrysalis is opening, and the view is great!

I think the most recent revelation in this evolution has been in finding that I’m sincerely content to be where I am while at the same time looking forward to all the years yet to come. I’m actually excited for 50, though not wanting to miss a second of all the years in between.

This is in contrast to how I was living. Internally I felt that there just wasn’t time – everything had to be rushed and was eminent because life was in fast forward. While I always was one to “suck the marrow” from life, this frenetic, whirlwind living I think really started after September 11th. Time froze while at the same time I felt like it went into overdrive. I never got out of that gear – not really. Not internally. I was almost in a panic to do and see all that for which I hoped and planned. I knew my mortality and was putting all sorts of energy into racing against it.

Suddenly, though, I feel like I have time. I’m resting in knowing me; knowing I accomplish what I set out to do, so it will happen. In the mean time, I’m here. That’s kind of great. My mortality hasn’t changed, just my perspective on how to be with it.

There’s another level to this, too. It’s the whole thing about feeling and looking (and acting!) younger than I am... This has always been a fantastic thing in my book. (What woman doesn’t want to frequently be taken for 10 years younger than she is??) Now, however, I’m really quite proud and grateful to be my age. Because it took to here to be so grounded and solid in who I am. No thoughts of what others think or how my family might react. My perspectives and beliefs won’t be altered by other’s judgments... no matter how much I might love them.

Considering my world view is so far from my entire, very large and well loved, extended family as well as the community I was so vigorously involved in for my first 35 years of life – the only community I’ve known, in fact - that is an extreme statement. Their disagreements and judgments on my Weltanschauung won’t cause me to waiver from it. If I am very blessed, they might one day understand I haven’t left my faith – only expanded it. But I can’t concern myself with the reactions of others, positively or negatively, when it comes to this subject. I embrace and accept others where they are at... I don’t ask them to do it/think it/feel it my way. I try to meet them where they are at and hopefully I will grow by embracing and understanding them.

Now, to looking young... sure, it gets me in more places and gives me access to more people who wouldn’t normally talk to (or date!) someone my actual age, but I love what those extra years have brought me. Suffering.

Because it’s only when you come out on the other side of deep pain and loss, that engulfing kind of brokenness, that you know your true strength. You know how deep your courage runs. Your footing there is solid and unwavering. You know yourself utterly. And can rest in that.

When you get there, to that place of peace with the ever-present pain, you will find real joy and passion again (likely in fits and starts, but you will find it). In fact, it will be richer because of the freedom taming such a ferocious beast brings. You will be full.

What a miraculous place to be. Hooray for aging!

What they mean.

Words. I never realized how much I prize them. The look of them; the sound of them. Where they come from; how they came to be. Why they mean what they do. I love words.

Specific words. Elegance. Passion. Art. They hold pictures. Home. Family. Friends. They hold emotion. Adventure. Faith. Live. They hold hope. Explore. Connect. Create. They hold my soul. Love. It holds everything.

Even in my art, words are vital. I love having them around me. To look at. To consider. To embrace.

I guess this demonstrates what I value. A story. How it is told. The words it uses. A person. How she describes herself. What I see in her. What it communicated. And faith. Sharing hope, asking for help, expressing gratitude… all in words.

Perhaps because I am physically separate from all of my friends and most of my family, the depth of meaning that words take on is even greater when a hug cannot be had or a laugh cannot be heard. A word can be felt. They have texture. I feel them.

Verve. Vivacity. Vivid. They are favorites, and hopefully me.

The separation.

Someone told me today how courageous I am. I had never thought of my decisions and actions recently as courageous until they said that.

I am a journeyer. In that, I see things differently than most. So, in the course of my experiencing God from the Christian perspective I was raised in and personally embraced, I continued the journey and found myself experiencing God beyond the limited ways and practices that are the habits of the church.

This is an amazing and exciting path. However, it is also very lonely. You see, in embracing the Sacred Mystery (God with open eyes) I effectively broke my deep bonds with the community I have always been a part of as well as with my entire family. So suddenly instead of walking alone but still solidly belonging, I walk alone because I am alone.

This is where courage was seen. In this act. It is not easy to be so disconnected. I am a person who thrives on and craves connections. It is so deeply ingrained in my being that it feels like it’s what I’m made for – to connect with others. The growth and understanding that comes from this is rich and true, but the love that exists in that acceptance is magnificent.

I seek connections where I can, but just right now, with the exception of a few (amazing) online girlfriends, I am so very alone. There is no going back now that I’ve reached higher and farther in faith than a box of religion will allow, but do I have the strength within me to continue to be courageous… and alone?

What we know.

Memorizing. It’s not exactly a common past time any more, with the possible exception of stage actors. In our parent’s and grandparent’s generations it was valued as a way to share beautiful and important things. Now we just google and forget.

As for me, before I could read or write I had all the books of the bible memorized as well as a couple dozen scriptures. As a side note, this shows how deeply ingrained in my core faith is. However, as I grew, I got lazy. I did memorize scriptures now and then, but my mind was filled with all sorts of things: movies, television shows, school work… movies. In all that I lost the practiced habit of learning something by heart.

The other day I was working on yet another list diligently (yet somehow wondering if spending so much of my time on lists wasn’t wasteful) when I started to think about how I’d like to improve my spiritual life. I had chunked the sections of my life up to what I’d like to work on in larger sections, hoping that having a larger focus instead of the minutia of details would make it easier, and in truth more fun, to achieve. Regarding my self, there were the three areas of mind, body, and spirit for which I was considering how to improve. When it came to my spirit, memorizing came to mind.

As I processed this idea, I processed what was important to me spiritually. Though I cherish the Bible, I value more than it now, because my understanding of God is bigger than what it was in my youth. And, my spirit revels in words. So I started to think of the quotes from books I’ve read that have changed me, moved me so deeply that they changed how I lived. Those words, those wonderful thoughts, that’s what I’d like to have inside me to dwell on when I can’t sleep or when I’m struggling emotionally.

So I decided to start with one of my very favorite quotes, an excerpt from Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. In point of fact, the first two I want to keep trapped in my brain in order to seep into my spirit are both from that outstanding book. Here’s the first:

“I hate a Roman named Status Quo,” he said to me, “Stuff your eyes with wonder,” he said, “Live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth that hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that,” he said, “shake the tree and knock the great sloth on his ass.”

I know that what inspires is very personal, and most of my friends I’ve shared this with liked the idea of it, but didn’t have the bonded sort of reaction that I did. I know my perspective is rather uncommon, and likely considered uncouth at times, but for me embracing this philosophy is to embrace my nature. My desire to purge and be free of stuff is tied into it. That’s me making sure I’m not so bound by things that I don’t have the energy to shake the tree.

The second quote is quite as vital to my being; to that for which my brain and heart longs.

We’ll just start walking today and see the world and the way the world walks around and talks, the way it really looks. I want to see everything now. And while none of it will be me when it goes in, after a while it’ll all gather together inside and it’ll be me. Look at the world out there, my God, my God, look at it out there, outside me, out there beyond my face and the only way to really touch it is to put it where it’s finally me, where it’s in the blood, where it pumps around a thousand times ten thousand a day. I'll get hold of it so it’ll never run off. I’ll hold onto the world tight some day. I’ve got one finger on it now; that’s a beginning.

It goes to my character and how I want to live my life. There are other quotes, many by the great authors of past generations, that speak to me. And I do hope that I find my way to memorizing them as well. It was likely unorthodox to memorize these two first… but then, that rather sums me up. I have great faith, but it is anything by orthodox. It’s vast and ever-expanding and with it comes a drive to understand and embrace the people and cultures of the world, and in doing that also growing from how they experience and honor God. This is my passion. To know not just these words, but the world - by heart.