A Few Random Thoughts...

I wonder how often people pass each other in simultaneous thought yet say nothing. How long are people willing to remain silent due to fear of the unknown and the fear of mistakes? How long are people willing to deny the heart its words? How can timing hurt and heal? These are a few random thoughts and ponderings...

Honesty with Myself

I've recently been weighing my reality and my dreams to in turn get a better grasp of the dreams that can very well become a reality and let go of those dreams that were never meant to be. Slowly getting rid of unrealistic expectations that I've placed upon myself is one of those things I'm working on. I am really my own worst critic and perfectionism is truly an albatross not worth carrying around for any longer. It's not to say that I'm going to settle, stop having goals, or stop striving to reach my full potential here in this life, but I am getting a better taste of reality and that I can't have "it" all. The "it" being the perfect life with the perfect future while being the perfect person. So, I'm getting a better grasp of who I really am, really, really flawed.

I guess the wrestle with perfectionism links back to wrestling with the whole superwoman complex I briefly mentioned in my last post. I thought that I had gotten rid of it years ago, but recently I've noticed that there are still traces of it. The part that expects myself to be perfect is that part that still remains. The part that expected others to be perfect exited me years ago. And again, there couldn't be a better season to deal with all of this. The season of gaining a better understanding and acceptance of me and my flaws.

On a more positive note, there are some really cute kids around right now that have given me my first ear-to-ear smile of the day :)

Suzie Homemaker, the Bra Burner, and Superwoman

Over the past week, I have thought much about what it means to be a woman in this time period. And I've been finding more and more that singleness is a good grounds for exploring such grounds. I understand that my thoughts on this matter will continually be changing as my life changes, but I am at a point of discovering who I am at this point in life. Over the past year or so, I've grown more comfortable with things that are gray and not black and white. Individual identity will always be a gray area since we're all continually evolving.

But to be more concrete concerning the thoughts of recent; there seems to be a dichotomy concerning what it means to be a woman in today's society--neither side of which seems to be an accurate perspective of what it means to be a woman in the 21st Century. As a side note, my observations have also lead me to believe that what it means to be a man in today's society is also in a state of gray limbo. For women, there have been two predominant points of view concerning their societal roles. The first perspective found it's height in 50's with the Betty Crocker and Suzie Homemaker stereotypes. One of my favorite authors Virgina Wolfe coined the term "angel in the house" and it also applies to this stereotype. Basically, she is to only be about matters of the home and family and doesn't have a real need for a career since her loving hubby can provide for everything--which is an unnecessary weight on him in my opinion when applied to today's demands and needs (but that generally an accepted fact concerning the status of our economy). On the other end of the spectrum are the "bra burners," the radical hippies that rebelled against almost everything the 50's stood for. For those of us in our late 20's and older, that means our mothers.

Now, my mother was always one to say, "Don't rely on a man for anything." I don't agree with the extremity of the statement, but it does speak to an extreme independence that I myself tend to tote. Her statement also speaks to the broader fear that no one can be truly trusted and that no one is truly reliable. Neither of these things I agree with either, but I have been realizing that they do have root in me. (Side note: Thankfully, God's working on that fear/distrust.) I've wrestled with the extreme independence that says, "I'm woman, hear me roar!" as well as the motherly instincts that were taken to the extreme of imprisoning women in the 1950's and prior and saying they were only to be mothers and to tend to the home. Both identities are cages. One only embraces family and domesticity while the other puts career and oneself above all else, all important relationships, and important bonds.

Therefore this is the conclusion I come to, I cannot be encaged by either identity. Neither is right. I want a vibrant career yet I want to have a loving family someday, but I realize I am not superwoman. The "superwoman," the woman who can tend to every need of her husband, kids, home, and career perfectly is an entirely different cage. If I could be a minor superhero and have another minor superhero by my side to balance everything and be equal with, that would suffice :P

Grateful for MD and for Home

For a while, I must admit that I have stared at this screen not knowing what to write, but knowing everything I wanted to write at the same time. I still wrestle with privacy and what to write here versus what to just keep on the interior or on the pages of my journal. And it might sound a bit crazy if you know this, but I do wrestle with shyness from time to time. So with these things in mind, I will say one thing...I am grateful.

I am grateful that I have friends that are loving, patient, hilarious, strong willed, and forgiving not only all over the US, but here in MD. And I sometimes wish there had been 48 hours in a day rather than only 24; but nonetheless, there have been some really wonderful and patient people here that have not only dealt with me but my lack of time. It's the things like being warmly welcomed back into a group and not being asked 10 million questions as to why I've been quiet or away for so long, but lovingly and joyfully accepts me back that make me grateful. It's the friends that I can be totally transparent with and not worry for fear of judgment that make this place feel more like home. It's the person that's patient and caring enough to wade through the gray of what is into the beauty of what could be and the people I've slowly and at first reluctantly let into the interior of my life that make me grateful for this place.

It's taken a long time for me to think of this state as home and allow healthy connections grow rather than to remain unattached. I've been finding that this now 3 year ground that was once filled with so much pain, is being renewed to be a place of beauty that can be called home. It's becoming a place where I can say I want these people in my life not just momentarily; but these are the people I want to invest my life and my time in for as long as He permits.

With these thoughts I await a new season, a season called "home." It's about time this lonely wanderer found such a thing :)

Poem: To Write on His Heart

With minor stories come an end
Minor acts pull their curtains
Focusing energies for the grand finale
Wondering what things are penned by Him
I've wondered...
Could I write love on His heart?
Write something so beautifully divine
Even He would be inspired by this speck in infinity
Daily He molds, breaks down, and rebuilds
Being formed into the image of first thought
Pushing, resting in stillness, being
Anything until I can write love on His heart
Wanting to reflect the Center
And His daily love letters upon mine own
I too have want to write love on his heart
Whomever he is
Wherever he is
Part of a grand finale for this life penned by Him
Not perfect, but perfect for me
But for now, in this phase of infinity
I rest at His feet
Lacking anxiety, restlessness, and all encapsulated in a wrongful trip away
I am at peace within
Finding the beauty of His daily love letters
From within and without...

Gathering the Pieces

Since Memorial Day weekend and two very fun and relaxing trips to the beach, I've come back feeling rejuvenated and yet bare at the same time. I've had a few revelations on things that I thought were but were not and have gotten a sobering taste of reality over the past couple of weeks.

But more than anything, I have been gathering the pieces of me. Returning from a vacation/trip away from God, I come back more grateful and with eyes wide open. Recognizing the things that wounded for what they really are versus the rose colored perception I chose. And more importantly, I've been humbled by the deeper realization that I don't have it "all together" even when society patted me on the back and said I did. Side note: Don't you hate that weight of society that tells you you're not normal if you don't have it all together? I wish the NY Times and Washington Post would write an article about how it is not cool to try to keep up with the Jones'. But then again, how would they make their money? And then again, I guess the newspaper (or web page depending on how you read the news) is the best advertiser that no one has it all together.

So I return here, beautifully broken and gathering the pieces of what He said I am and will be. I am gathering the pieces of my freedom...