I Write and Think-Not Worry

When I’m at my Mom’s I often sit early in the morning on her couch to wonder. 

Her yard and flower garden view is quite tranquil. Especially on a morning the seagulls and geese have decided to take up space elsewhere.

I wouldn’t label it worry-wondering.  When I come up with ideas I like to isolate and think about them more. Those are the ideas I typically try to write about.

Certain ideas become puzzles to me. When I wrote about aloneness in my last blog post, it finally started to make sense to me after thinking about it for few weeks. 

I’ve already spent a lifetime struggling with it and now have more experience to draw on from, along with help from many authors, friends and loved ones who have shared their perspectives. And a therapist I had for years whose wisdom I continue to draw from.

It helps me to write about ideas I suppose others might think about. My ego tells me maybe I’ve shared some thoughts that helps give them clarity. I hope so.

I never give up the work to figure out who I am, what my values are or if I can possibly measure up to all of them. Failure is okay. I'm always hopeful for progress.

The trueness that’s me me isn’t a wasted search. Each time an idea clicks it’s like I’m a giraffe who searches for her spots and finds them. They may be weird and uninteresting attributes to any other animal who lives in the Savannah, but I need them to be a real giraffe! (Well, in this case a real human being)

I’ve learned to be comfortable with the two-folded-ness of my beliefs. It’s taken me lifetime to swallow the possibility some of my beliefs stand on shaky ground. So, if my values aren’t flexible I’m in big trouble. The shaky ground has helped make them stronger and more versatile if I can untwist their complexity.  

I was raised Catholic. I was taught for seven years in school with nuns as my teachers. I now believe math and geography were swapped for catechism lessons and foot trips to the church for masses. I internalized those priorities and now I have pick through them for things I know to be true for me. 

I don’t spend as much energy being righteous. There’s a good possibility it is me in the mirror I am pointing a finger at and I resent being judged, especially by myself.

Life doesn’t generally have good visibility. I now realize the waters are more likely to be muddied with sharp stones hidden underneath to stab my feet when I step in. 

Life’s traps don’t have to immobilize us. For them to panic or paralyze us wastes our precious life. If what we value has just slapped us in the face and laughed at us it doesn’t mean we have to stop in our tracks.

What we think we value may not have the merit we thought it had. Or there’s a compromise somewhere inside us waiting for our permission to move on with purpose.

So, I write and I think. I learn to adjust and unfortunately I still love to be right. I will let that go soon I’m sure and unsure.