Sunday, January 9

in the world, of the world, for the world?

Have you ever had one of those days . . . ? Of course you have. I'm sure everyone has at one time or another. It is hard to recognize it sometimes except in retrospect. You feel everything coming to a head, sharp and hot, and your breath seems short throughout the day. If you are by yourself you can hear your heart beating, beating, beating.

One phrase that you think might be the answer keeps pulsing in your brain, leaping into your throat along with your heart. Are you sure you haven't said it out loud to anybody? Has it been whispered when you were thinking of something else? Will anybody recognize it?

Sometimes, for reasons explainable but not satisfactorily so, I cry . . . It doesn't matter where I am or who I am with. A wrenching ache sounds like twisting metal inside of me and all of a sudden my eyes overflow with tears and I am left in the slightly damp and uncomfortable wake of tears that I could hardly see coming.

Then, of course, there is the moment when I excuse myself quietly and stand looking at the inside of a bathroom stall. Is it over? Are you done? No, there's a silent flood--overwhelming and leaving me helpless--of those silent, mouth-contorting half-sobs that remain silent and leave your human form so pitiable, and ugly.

People don't want to comfort you when you look like that and haven't been through some event that excuses such behavior; the kind seen in movies (even then, they don't cry like that in movies) or soap operas.

The gut-wrenching, retching feeling that leaves your legs weak and your arms shaking and your face splotched and red, your eyes swollen and your nose running. So human, so disgustingly mortal.

One of the hardest things about being a Christian is living in the world and not being of the world. I live here, but I don't belong here. I love people here, but this place and this situation is one that isn't what I was meant for. Life is no vale of tears, but I can't "eat, drink, and be merry" either.

I ramble. I am in a bad space right now. I haven't been able to write something I LIKE for a long time. Things are changing. To clinch it all, I'm getting unfavourable commentaries on my behavior when I am doing my best. Best isn't good enough. Don't you dare let down your guard for a moment; they live in a different world.

"No, I'm trying not to cry so I can eat." I have said that twice in the past two weeks. It is making me sick.

Of course, though--now I have one of those headaches that DOESN'T GO AWAY! I wonder WHY it has to be in celebration of hope that I feel like I have got so little and that it is my fault. I love. I believe. The hard thing is to hope. But hope does not disappoint us. I know that; I know.


Anonymous said...

The bathroom is really the worst place to cry, kiddo...

One of my favorite songs to listen to when I'm having one of those days is an old slow tune by George Harrison called "Beware Of Darkness," and it's one that has an inspirational message. The chorus goes something like:

"Beware of sadness,
It can hit you,
It can hurt you,
Make you sore but what is more
It's not what we are here for."

The melody is as beautiful as the lyrics are so let your imagination wander. Bible verses never come to me that fast; I can always relate to a song first thing. I hope this helps. I'll be seeing you,


Anonymous said...

I found this through Sandy Quill's blog on Mindsay. I would just like to day that I am a crying type person too. I also do not feel like this world is for me. Like everything I do here is only like the song says; dust in the wind.

I have a disjointed feeling that follows me around everywhere. At times I don't like to be around people because the way they seem to live without really being aware of themselves scares me. It makes me feel like I am off course or drifting.

I ground myself in odd ways. I like to walk almost obsessively. I take photographs- sometimes 30 photographs of one little thing or area just to see the thing or place from all different directions as if I will find secrets in the photos...

I don't know. Being alive is both fantastical and an aberration for me. I wouldn't want to be not alive but at times I can't figure out why I am.

My blog is My Ordinary Life. It is an oxymoron that most people don't get. You might get it though.

Harbin said...

Your atoms come from the earth.

Tree-like, you've grown up by finding nourishment, seasons, and air here on Ma Terra. You've made the world a part of you and in doing so, become a part of it.

While doubtless you've somewhere else that you will eventually go, the bond that you share with your current shell means you have a unique power and authority to lay claim to your life. This north-and-south-pole business is nonsense, you're on top of the world. Have fun with it.

That failing, perhaps Invictus will help.

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the full clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley (1849-1903)