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Friday
Dec042009
No Title
December 4, 2009
Is it an ocean of grace? Or an ocean of regrets.
Are we what we do? Or how we feel.
Or something different, something in between, something the size and shape of the perfect smooth rock that you close your hand around, just to feel its weight.
I have been struggling with anxiety again lately. It's okay, I'm okay. It is not fear, I have nothing to fear. It is a sort of discomfort in my own skin. I can't relax, can't enjoy.
But I'm learning to observe it from the outside. The best way is to be the author, the painter, showing what I see, not bringing things into the tangle.
I am learning to be silent, to silence the seething within with patience and gentleness.
Those are not true feelings, Ducky, just fold that laundry and make it really smooth.
It's okay to sit and read for a minute, don't jump up just yet, Love.
Did you see that glimpse of river through the jungle?
Did you see those short cows in the road, confused and clustered around each other? I laughed, you can laugh, too.
You haven't done anything wrong.
*
I've been picking up hitchhikers lately, on my scooter. Not who you might think of, when you think of a hitchhiker. These are old ladies, looking for a ride to the village center. I almost wrote elderly, and then I erased it, because the term doesn't seem to apply, here. They are old, but not elderly. They wear saris, but sometimes tucked up between their legs, like a dhoti. They are carrying their bags for the market.
They are surprised when I stop. And they hop on the back, sitting side saddle, the way traditional women do, and some are so light that I can barely tell they are there, while some rock the scooter a bit and I have to re-evaluate the way we take the turns. I drive slowly.
And then I have made a friend for life.
*
I haven't been the best friend to myself. Today we meditated on the wisdom that comes from above, that is first pure, then peaceable, then gentle, then open to reason, then sincere... There were others, I don't have a bible on hand right now. (You can read it in James 3: 13-18)
Gentleness is a great gift. I will ask for it and wield it in my house, with my family, spread it on my table like a cloth, throw it on the walls like a bucket of water, so it runs down and covers all of our mistakes (and hopefully washes some of the crayon off the walls.)
And then I will wrap it around the small stone that I have in my hand, like a blanket.
Are we what we do? Or how we feel.
Or something different, something in between, something the size and shape of the perfect smooth rock that you close your hand around, just to feel its weight.
I have been struggling with anxiety again lately. It's okay, I'm okay. It is not fear, I have nothing to fear. It is a sort of discomfort in my own skin. I can't relax, can't enjoy.
But I'm learning to observe it from the outside. The best way is to be the author, the painter, showing what I see, not bringing things into the tangle.
I am learning to be silent, to silence the seething within with patience and gentleness.
Those are not true feelings, Ducky, just fold that laundry and make it really smooth.
It's okay to sit and read for a minute, don't jump up just yet, Love.
Did you see that glimpse of river through the jungle?
Did you see those short cows in the road, confused and clustered around each other? I laughed, you can laugh, too.
You haven't done anything wrong.
*
I've been picking up hitchhikers lately, on my scooter. Not who you might think of, when you think of a hitchhiker. These are old ladies, looking for a ride to the village center. I almost wrote elderly, and then I erased it, because the term doesn't seem to apply, here. They are old, but not elderly. They wear saris, but sometimes tucked up between their legs, like a dhoti. They are carrying their bags for the market.
They are surprised when I stop. And they hop on the back, sitting side saddle, the way traditional women do, and some are so light that I can barely tell they are there, while some rock the scooter a bit and I have to re-evaluate the way we take the turns. I drive slowly.
And then I have made a friend for life.
*
I haven't been the best friend to myself. Today we meditated on the wisdom that comes from above, that is first pure, then peaceable, then gentle, then open to reason, then sincere... There were others, I don't have a bible on hand right now. (You can read it in James 3: 13-18)
Gentleness is a great gift. I will ask for it and wield it in my house, with my family, spread it on my table like a cloth, throw it on the walls like a bucket of water, so it runs down and covers all of our mistakes (and hopefully washes some of the crayon off the walls.)
And then I will wrap it around the small stone that I have in my hand, like a blanket.
Reader Comments (11)
what a poet you are. i too wrestle with anxiety. i'm sorry you are feeling this way.
...i have set the Lord always before me. because he is at my right hand, i will not be shaken. psalm 16
.-= Hilaree´s last blog ..http://unconventionalchristian.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-like.html" rel="nofollow">i like. =-.
Absolutely Beautifully said. There is great truth in this post.
.-= tj´s last blog ..http://theranchonsalmoncreek.blogspot.com/2009/11/dispatches-from-ranch.html" rel="nofollow">Dispatches from the Ranch =-.
Sounds like PMT to me yo.
.-= Eleanor´s last blog ..http://eleanorfromthecommentbox.blogspot.com/2009/11/wedding-cake-challenge.html" rel="nofollow">Wedding Cake Challenge =-.
Mmmm...I've been missing you lately...and after reading this I remember why. Feeling a bit sad myself lately. Mmm...miss you.
Love this post Rachel. Wish i could talk to you and tell you what you mean to me and what your writings mean to me, too. I read all of them and feel like you're not so far away. You and your family. Love you.
Your post resonated with me. I recently experienced a huge and unexpected rift within my family (with my dear sister), and it has left a gaping wound. That I have no power to "fix" things makes it worse. Feelings of anxiety and fear have enveloped me since then, but there is now a peace I hadn't felt before. Your words soothed my sorrow a bit. Blessings.
.-= Ellen´s last blog ..http://bluestockingbelle.blogspot.com/2009/12/our-week-in-review-nov-30-dec-4.html" rel="nofollow">Our Week In Review: Nov. 30 -- Dec. 4 =-.
Beautiful Rae.
You might feel anxious but you sure write such beautiful things.
thank you for sharing this!
How moving, I love your writing and how you express yourself... Be gentle with yourself, so hard to do. Forgiveness, I find it so easy to forgive others and yet so hard to forgive myself. The human condition. It sounds like you are doing good things to remind yourself that your gentle spirit needs your gentle touch.
And the image of you playing taxi for the old ladies on your scooter gave me a great smile. What a photo that would be! :o)
Blessings.
.-= lagata´s last blog ..http://lagata-adayinthelife.blogspot.com/2009/12/fish.html" rel="nofollow">Fish =-.
I re-read this, and I realize it was just in the nick of time. The gentle words directed at yourself were a tutorial I needed today, lest I ruin the entire Christmas season for my family. "You haven't done anything wrong." Ahhhh. That's better.
.-= Renee´s last blog ..http://3acres.blogspot.com/2009/12/stll-here.html" rel="nofollow">Still here. =-.