Finding the One...

Photo Credit: Evan Kaufmann

     Mother Trucker.

     I can't believe I only blogged ONE TIME in June.

     Well, if you must know, I was taking a personal. Also code for...being lazy. Okay. That's partially true. I also knew, if I had the moxie to come to this laptop and write, that I would probably tell you far more than I intended to. So yes, I was hiding a bit.

     Why does the truth almost knock the wind out of us?

     I love the quote by Gloria Steinem, "The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off."

     Mostly.

     As I try to make sense of "not being perfect", I feel a rush in the atmosphere, something trying to push me, something trying to push me to have answers, solutions, and to know things. It's not a good push feeling, it's the tornado-like momentum of a city and its many visions and aspirations, most of which are incomplete.

     And as I listen to the whispering yells of voices and opinions around me, I try to remember those things that are uniquely important to me.

     Because you see, we all have something that is uniquely important to us. And it should be. These things should matter. These things shouldn't be glossed over and treated like yesterday's news. These things shouldn't be ignored.

     Tonight is a night I want to feel free, and to share my stories.

     A night where I want to go dancing in the streets of Italy.

     Where I want to look into the eyes of a stranger and find a true connection.

     These things have happened before, in fact, they're happening to someone right now. Right this very moment.

     There is living to be had. Here and now.

     But something in this city is pushing me uncomfortably forward, and not allowing me to hold and cherish those things that are uniquely important to me.

     This is what I was afraid of.

     Being overly underwhelmed and agitated. Stiff to the touch of my own desires, those things that cause my heart to sing.

     The truth is, I feel as though something within me is just half birthed and not yet fully expressed. I'm somehow waiting for permission to be me.

     Hesitation brings tension and a mixture of hope deferred. And I feel that I have now entered into a posture of hesitation, which is so unlike me. And then the pain strikes, as it often does when we're already vulnerable.

      The pain of the unresolved. The pain of waiting. The pain of disappointment. The pain of embarrassment  The pain of feeling left behind. The pain of only being half alive. And the pain of feeling dreams slip through your hands like sand.

     Sand...

     I think I'm longing for something complete and settled.

     And just more time.

     More time to think, to see, to know, and to live.

     Not just someday, but today.

     Because in my spirit, I feel as though a terrible, terrible shaking is eminent somehow. As if time itself will stop and I would have never expressed my ability to fly, to soar, and to share that with someone of like heart, or to truly express that to those that I love.

     Letting go is such a difficult and powerful thing to do.

     It makes me want to punch someone in the face.

     But once I do it...letting go, that is--

     Something changes...actually, everything changes.

     And I'm ready to be found.

     And like clockwork, in the midst of the forest of tears, tension, and heartache--

     He finds me.

Wisdom's Knocking:

"You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart." 

-Jeremiah 29:13