On purpose

30 01 2009

So I haven’t written about anything for a while now, and I’ve been off work the past week because of Chinese New Year. The break has been restful in the lots-of-great-food sense, but crappy in the realistic sense with my dad being in hospital and all the things that are related with Family Crap. Rushing back and forth between places and the hospital is not exactly conducive to rest and productivity, and neither is worrying about one of the most important people in my life.

And I feel bad about worrying so much about my dad, because I need to get a life, and become my own person, ignoring altogether those that would read other layers of meaning behind the apprehension…

Man, I hate Freud.

But right now, it’s 1:20 in the morning and I’m wide awake because I can’t sleep. Tomorrow, I’m going to start researching my dissertation topic so I can hand in my topic outline on Wednesday. And I have to confess: even thinking about the months ahead is sufficient to send me into paroxysms of fear and trepidation. What if my vocabulary isn’t good enough? What if my topic gets rejected? What if I can’t come up with enough things to say? What if—? What if…?

Life is overwhelming, but I’ve been off-and-on encouraged by this bit that Anne Lamott writes in Plan B: Further Thoughts On Faith: “Hope is not about proving anything. It’s about choosing to believe this one thing, that love is bigger than any grim, bleak shit anyone can throw at us.” I find it encouraging because it gives me a reason to remain hopeful, and a justification for the many times I’ve said to myself, “it could be worse.” Because if I go deeper, there’s always something that gives me hope, and a reason. My purpose in life is so much less ordinary than I give it credit for. And it’s the same with the people I know, and live alongside, and exist with.

As my friend Anne writes, we are capable of lives of great joy and meaning because it’s what we are made of. And it’s what we’re here for. And this is what we have to remember when the times are hard, and life sucks again: things are going to be alright.


A decision, finally…

3 01 2009

I’ve been struggling a lot recently with priorities and time management, and tonight, I finally announced at Solid Rock that I would be taking a break from the end of January until whenever my programme finishes. It was such a relief to have made a decision, but so, so painful. It was good to meet with James to talk about the whole lot at lunch. I am definitely glad for the weeks there are between the announcement and my last week at SR. I need to figure out my identity aside/apart from youth leadership, and I need to do it clearly. Who am I, and what do I need? Ah, life is so confusing sometimes. I caught myself wondering, at one point, whether it’s really even necessary for us to know who we are.

He said today that I need to make the best decision for myself, but how can I know what that is if I don’t know who “myself” is? If only things were as simple as they seem to be.

I walk away

1 01 2009

I met up with him, and we were together for 6 hours, and nothing happened. I could always feel a vague sense of disappointment – with life, with myself and with the sheer nothingness there is. And it is so frustrating as I feel that I should know there is more. I cringe when people speak so knowingly, when they say the words that I should need to hear, but don’t want to have echo in my emptiness.

Today was not a good day in terms of heart.

The expectations were plentiful, and I could feel it simmering under the surface, under all the discussions we were having and I, I had nothing underneath to prepare me for it. The warmth of his body contrasted with the cold both inside and outside, and I felt nothing.

He said I need a hobby, and I could think of nothing but apologies. The whirl of thoughts in me impotently beats against the restraints it is held captive by, and the music in my ears both soothe and agitate it. I hunger and am not satisfied; the chokehold that obligation and frustration has is too tight, and I am hollow.