For the greater part of 2012, I was on what I'm calling a "blog sabbatical." Turns out, reading about the sparkly, blue skies version of some other person's life was making me feel insecure about the life I had happening in front of me. You know, the one that actually matters & has a pulse & stuff. Even more worrisome, it was really starting to affect how I wrote, & what parts of our life I was willing to share with the tiny piece of the world that has encountered this corner of the web. But slowly, (very slowly), I am falling back in love with the blogging world and the lovely people that it contains. It probably has a lot to do with feeling like I've gained some perspective over the last year, & definitely has a lot to do with having a better sense of direction for the coming year. I've been filled with a sense of purpose, & it's pretty sparkly, actually.
So, with all the niceties being said, I'm sharing a post with you that I wrote & never published the week of my 24th birthday. (That's in October, for those of you who are keeping track.) It's a little dark, I guess, but it's only right to share the dark & twisty. There's even some blue sky at the end. Consider yourself warned.
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It's one of those mornings. The type of morning that only a double shot cappuccino seems to pacify. The rainy, gray sky probably doesn't help my moody, dreary subconscious. But really? The sun would just bother me today. No, I'm feeling pensive & there's not place for sunshine in my state of brooding. Existentialism is in the air & I am inhaling.
I'm turning 24 this week. I only realized that I was turning TWENTY-FOUR about a month ago, & I've been trying to come to terms with it ever since. I know that it's at about this point that every soul over the age of 25 who reads this will begin to roll their eyes & maybe even stop reading. & that's fine because I've had my eye rolling moments with myself, too. 24 is just a number. 24 is not that old.
Unfortunately, it's easier to type that than it is to believe it. 24 sounds big, like the age that you DO THINGS. In the story of their lives, people with bios have a line like, "By 24, he had..." or "When she turned 24, she decided..." Or at least they do in my mind. Like it's this defining age that is filled with purpose & reinventing. Closing doors & opening windows... or just opening whatever you can squeeze yourself through, really. Writing a book, signing a deal, buying a home. Maybe having a baby & beginning that role in life.
Ugh. The guitarist in the cafe I'm sitting in just began to play "Yesterday." This is irony on four different levels.
I am desperately seeking what 24 will mean for me. For us. (& just to clear the air - Babies, while eagerly anticipated, are not on the agenda.) Can I just have a giant checklist show up at my door on Thursday morning? What do I need to pursuit to move forward? Where do we need to go to fulfill that need for new adventures? What opportunities are worth exploring & which ones are worth ignoring? I have these dreams. BIG FAT DREAMS that feel like they're a life-aftering decision away. But what's maybe worse is the thought that maybe I'm just not motivated enough to reach them - The dreams AND the life-altering decisions. I've placed myself in a tiny box, with no windows, taupe walls & probably some ugly, multicolored carpet.
God & I are regularly chit-chatting about my trust issues. Me, trusting wholly & completely. & I try. & I fail. & I pout & eventually reach the conclusion that God is
obviously using my continuous state of unrest for something bigger. Something... next. Then I get scared that I'm just justifying my selfish discontent while also giving myself an excuse to be lazy. That I'm actually just living a bitter existence, waiting for a Someday that will never come, because Someday was actually today, & I missed it because I was still dreaming about tomorrow.
So. In an effort to look on the upside before I start designing the flag for this State of Brooding - Here is the reality about today. Reality is that I woke up this morning next to a man who loves me so hard & so well that it actually makes me cry when I try to fathom it. Reality is that I go in to work tomorrow & catch up with one of my best friends, because she is also my boss. Reality is that our ridiculous apartment may have creaky floors & the creepiest laundry basement ever, but it sure does have a great view of the sunset. Reality is rain & a double shot cappuccino on a day when it is good to be 23.
Obviously, I'm far from reaching any conclusions. In the mean time, I'll be reaching for truths. Constant truths to draw close to my soul & find rest in. Like love & the Word & this steamy mug of frothy goodness sitting in front of me.
Today, it is my reality in a cup.
