The candles are lit...
and I am sitting in bed listening to Diana Krall. She is one of my favorite artists. Her voice is so haunting to my soul, her lyrics feel as if the world is filled with beauty,love, and honesty. It is truly a blessed moment.After hearing Annie speak last week I realized that I am going to go insane if I cannot write more. I need to get out all of the ideas that are lingering in my head. It has become something that I can no longer put on the shelf. I have a story, a perspective, that needs to be shared. Even if it is only with my friends. The only problem is that I need to get over a hurdle. What hurdle? The hurdle that is me.
I realized why I am such a freak. It is because I have a fear of rejection. Why do I reject other, namely men? To avoid being rejected or hurt. Why do I not try this writing thing? To avoid failure and rejection. Why do I not risk? To avoid failure. A good portion of why I do not do things or move forward is because I am wracked with fear. Fear of self, fear of success/failure, fear of not being accepted for who I am, fear of not doing it right. It is a large smelly pile of manure that I find myself.
After my business final, I quietly walked down the hallway, mustering every ounce of strength to not cry. My mind was flooded with thoughts of the future. Question after question, pouring out of my spirit, toward the heavens with sheer exhaustion. I am tired of having the same conversation with God. What do I do? Where do I go? What is it that you are creating me for? Exiting the double doors, breathing in the moment,the smell of wet earth filled my lungs. Delicate drops of rain feel on my thick hair to attempt to cleanse away all of my pain. My spirit was holding onto every fiber of strength that I had left, every string slowly being ripped in me.
I have nothing. Nothing, I dramatically thought to myself. Every insecurity in me was rearing it's ugly head. I cannot do anything well. Why can I not do anything well. The only things that I am good at are not worth anything. Why can I not just be good at one thing. Ruth is really talented with the piano, why can't I be as talented as her? Trissa is really confident with boys, why can's I be like her? Erin is a fantastic teacher, why can't I be like her? I am good at loving people. I am good with kids. I am good at being nice. Why can't I preach a message well? Why can't I sing well? And finally, Jesus why the hell can I not write? I want to write well, I do not want to just be somewhat good like I am at everything else. I really want to just to one thing well cause it feels so scattered to me. I cannot do anything right.
Then I realized. My mom used to tell me that I couldn't do things right. I remember when I was around nine sitting in the car on a hot summer day with my mom. I sat quietly in the back seat, then a familiar song came on the radio, that I enjoyed, and I began to sing to it. I stumbled over a few words, and felt stupid. I remember feeling unsure of myself alot as a child. My mother haughtly reached over to the stereo, and turn the music down. She said, "If you are going to sing it, sing it right."
I spent a majority of my childhood trying to make things right. I spend most of my life today trying to make things right. Trying to be right. At the age of 26, I am beginning to uncover a huge flaw in me. I cannot be right. I will never be right. Why? Because the person that determines the right is me, and I have proven repeatedly that I cannot live up to my personal expectations. They are way too high.
The voice that I have been given has not had the freedom to sing, because of my own self-inflicted oppression, partly because of the unhealthy paradigms that continue to corrupt the view of myself and the world around me, and God. I guess part of me I think feels sometimes that God was displeased with me when I was not as active in the church this last year and a half. That I was a disobedient child, his bastard child, that really wasn't his because all of God's children were submisssive, good kids that saved their allowance and gave to the poor. Intellectually, I can tell you that is not true, but oh man did I feel it, still do sometimes. Part of me always felt like it wasn't ok to tell anyone that I have doubts about God, partially cause I didn't want to be attacked with the bible band-aid shit that christians are so good at using to try and cover up real pain. Jesus is a big boy, He can handle a little irreverance for the sake of authenticity.
I guess I am ready to move toward healing. I think that for me starts with believing that great things can happen. In order for great things to happen though...I need to risk.
I am going to be better at talking with men that are not married or dating someone...
I am going to try and not be so damn critical of myself.
I am going to write more.
And then we will see what happens...
posted by Kat @ 10:28 PM
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