I need to slow down. I mean seriously. Why am I rushing?
And then, in the midst of my haste, I make rash decisions and partake of the cup of rash emotions.
These are the times when I dream of someone rocking me gently.
I've learned that facades are far more prevalent and closer to home than we'd like to imagine. I've also learned that miracles are only a mere suddenly away.
The discomfort of the waiting. That is why I squirm. But at least I've learned that redemption is never too far behind.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Posted by Patrice at 9:13 PM
Friday, January 15, 2010
Today I've been laughing at the most odd things. One being the truth and bite of my stares, looks, sarcasm, humor, and attitude. Wow, all this time I've been picturing myself as the gentile sassy girl. But no, it seems I'm more like the wicked witch of the west. And not in the, sing-a-song-on-Broadway, type of witch. No. Just the one you might be scared of.
But then I think. We as women have that nasty side. I mean, we have to be careful. We can cut someone faster than a chef with a good knife.
During the holidays, there was this slight frustration rising up within me. It was a deep sense of agitation. It comes and goes. And no, it wasn't that special time of the month. I was simply trying to reconcile those things of which I dreamed of and my current state of mediocrity. Oh yes, out of the abundance of the heart, your big mouth will speak. Like it or not. Unless you're the "I keep it all inside, only to grow a watermelon sized ulcer" type of person. But for the most part, we're so good at self promoting. I mean, look at me. I'm writing this blog in hopes that you'll read it and "see me". And of course, how could I leave out the ever so infamous Facebook Status Updates. See me. See me now.
But what am I really saying? Am I addressing the issues that have gotten me all irate. Or am I simply talking about it?
So, I get into this conversation with my parents about my future husband. They both have theories. Amidst all of the dreams and prophetic words that sound like butter, they hammer home the fact that I'm somewhat mean and hard to live with and my husband will have to be a patient and strong man. What? Really. Have I been looking at the wrong personality mirror all these years? Perhaps. But then I also counter this talk with the fact that they are my parents and they were destined to get on my nerves at least 12 hours of a 24 hour day. Thus bringing out my attitude.
But then I got reflective. Why is that we act the ugliest towards the ones that are closest to us or those we want to love the most. Is it simply that we knowingly take these people for granted? And in regards to family...Do we not know how to love someone that has taken care of us long before we could use the bathroom by ourselves? Are we constantly trying to prove something to them...thus allowing pride to be our guide instead of love. Or are we just mean?
We want people to give us grace for our mishaps and flaws (character or otherwise), but we have such a hard time extending them towards others or to those that have tried to love us first--Before we were popular, before we got a degree, before we had life revelations, before we hung out with celebrities, and before we were grown ups. And yet our attitudes and love are hindered in some sort of arrested development with our families and those closest to us.
Truly, I don't want my heart to be hindered in any way. I want my actions to fully reflect love. Not just some of the time. But definitely most of the time. And ideally, all of the time.
I laugh sometimes at the disconnect I have from what I perceive is true about myself versus what is really going on with me. You know the feeling. It's like looking at a picture of yourself from 5-10 years ago and feeling completely different about the person you're looking at in the picture. Your thoughts come from a different perspective, a more mature and higher view of things. You realize the way that you had perceived yourself then may not have truly lined up with reality...which, in turn, may be good or bad.
All to say, I want to be able to look at a picture of myself from 2010 and not see a trace of resentment, bitterness, or anger. But I want to see the face of a woman well loved and who loved well.
A process I hope to be growing in.
That being said...maybe, just maybe, the next time I see you, I won't shank you with my death stare and vocal tone.
Posted by Patrice at 11:28 PM