I know, technically, all the dots will never expose their full connection. And quite frankly, there are events. moments. decisions. happenings. I never want to imagine, picture or recognize even in order to visualize their connection. Yeah. I'm good.
However. I can see it now. The connections. The webs. The webs that can only actually be seen when the light shines on them in the just the right way.
Mmmm. A smile creeps upon my face slightly. Slowly. And truly. Ahh! I feel it. The energy of the connections. My Father chuckling lightly, face beaming as He looks upon my face light with even the slightest epiphany. He must be relishing in my joy. After all He is the cause of it. He created it. His light has allotted me to visualize the web, to the best ( & only necessity-level ) of my human ability.
I. Have. A. Purpose. In fact my purpose is plural. And another web will be revealed later. Ya know, the thing is... I don't even care to ask for it- with one eye squinted, hoping like a child- a visual of the web. I don't ask Him for how it's connected. Or WHY I am experiencing this/that/the other.
I TRUST HIM.
Maybe it's because it is all falling together. It's easy not to ask questions: "why" & "when" in the presence of such peace and joy and presence of mind. When the highest of earthly love is raining...Reigning upon me with such abundance.
I am so happy. I am thrilled. Excited. Beyond hopeful. Peaceful. Joyful. Confident to a certain meager extent (hey, it's better than before). I KNOW where I am about to be taken... Ah, and man.. Dude. I am ready for this ride.
Sometimes I do not know if I am getting goose bumps from the chill or from a strong shift of emotion. I get a "butterfly heart" when I know God is moving, when I know He is communicating with me to move, act, or saying, "Mary this is you! Do it! You know I want you to act."
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Redirected
Sometimes we... I advert my eyes. This is when I do not want to face what is right in front of me. I do this frequently.
Even if a part of me wants to look... I don't fully. I will face that direction. But with my eyes closed. Or turn my head the appropriate way, with eyes adverted- fixated on something else. Narrowed. Focused. Squinted on something- anything far away. Something that's in the background. A backdrop. That's often where true beauty lies.
Sometimes we... I use anger. Bitterness is easy to utilize. To get mad at the small things. Easily annoyed. Perturbed. Even easily offended. Use my defenses to defuse... Or to fuse.
But when what is right in front of me is not ignored. When the depth of the picture is viewed.... All else fades. The anger. The years of heartache. The tears. The disappointments. The words. The "abuse." Did I mention anger? The failures that had been framed and hung on the wall. The control. The manipulation.
What about the love? The forgiveness. The attempts. The misunderstandings. What about MY manipulations? What about my attention seeking.
It makes me sick... What is hurt projected as bitterness and anger I have used to victimize myself. When I want to "take on the guilt"... I throw around "Oh this is what I did wrong, BUT..." There is always a "but." Always a reason I was mean (no other word here). An excuse. Victimize. What about "villainize"??
Time to not bring it up. Time to see what is in front of me. No longer averting my eyes. He is sick. It gets worse daily. No one sees it like I do. No one bears it like I do. No one internalizes it like I do. No one is trapped in it like I am. Not victimization there. Facts. Take him for the ball of anxiety and hurt and anger and loneliness he is and love him. Nurture him like I would any child.
Why isn't this an easy concept to grasp? Is it because the way his eyes narrow when he's angry- as if to hone in only on me. To look down upon me without looking into me? Or it is the stories she has told me about him? Is it the way I have ultimately been allotted the "caregiver" role? It is the past, present, or future?
Is it my guilt? Is it that I have watched this process for years. Is it because I laid in my bed crying 5 times a week- morning and night- wondering if he was going to cough himself to death- literally. Or is it that I envy him for not eating. Am I angry because he doesn't want food? He is skinny and I will never be? Is it all the times he has talked over me? Is it how I don't set my cup down right? ..... Is it deeper? Is it all of this?
Am I sad? angry? confused? conflicted? Yes. But right now. I am sad. I am sorry. I am guilt-stricken. I am hurting. I am trying to swallow pride. And now I am going to pray.
Even if a part of me wants to look... I don't fully. I will face that direction. But with my eyes closed. Or turn my head the appropriate way, with eyes adverted- fixated on something else. Narrowed. Focused. Squinted on something- anything far away. Something that's in the background. A backdrop. That's often where true beauty lies.
Sometimes we... I use anger. Bitterness is easy to utilize. To get mad at the small things. Easily annoyed. Perturbed. Even easily offended. Use my defenses to defuse... Or to fuse.
But when what is right in front of me is not ignored. When the depth of the picture is viewed.... All else fades. The anger. The years of heartache. The tears. The disappointments. The words. The "abuse." Did I mention anger? The failures that had been framed and hung on the wall. The control. The manipulation.
What about the love? The forgiveness. The attempts. The misunderstandings. What about MY manipulations? What about my attention seeking.
It makes me sick... What is hurt projected as bitterness and anger I have used to victimize myself. When I want to "take on the guilt"... I throw around "Oh this is what I did wrong, BUT..." There is always a "but." Always a reason I was mean (no other word here). An excuse. Victimize. What about "villainize"??
Time to not bring it up. Time to see what is in front of me. No longer averting my eyes. He is sick. It gets worse daily. No one sees it like I do. No one bears it like I do. No one internalizes it like I do. No one is trapped in it like I am. Not victimization there. Facts. Take him for the ball of anxiety and hurt and anger and loneliness he is and love him. Nurture him like I would any child.
Why isn't this an easy concept to grasp? Is it because the way his eyes narrow when he's angry- as if to hone in only on me. To look down upon me without looking into me? Or it is the stories she has told me about him? Is it the way I have ultimately been allotted the "caregiver" role? It is the past, present, or future?
Is it my guilt? Is it that I have watched this process for years. Is it because I laid in my bed crying 5 times a week- morning and night- wondering if he was going to cough himself to death- literally. Or is it that I envy him for not eating. Am I angry because he doesn't want food? He is skinny and I will never be? Is it all the times he has talked over me? Is it how I don't set my cup down right? ..... Is it deeper? Is it all of this?
Am I sad? angry? confused? conflicted? Yes. But right now. I am sad. I am sorry. I am guilt-stricken. I am hurting. I am trying to swallow pride. And now I am going to pray.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Dead Week
There is nothing clever about this blog. No underlying meaning. No insightful parallels. No beautiful flow-etry of words... Just....
Oh no.
I'm avoiding school again. This time I am yearning to relish in my... happiness, joy, content, love. I want to just FEEL. I have shoved and stuffed feelings. I have ignored God's incessant tugging.
Now I'm feeling and it's what I want to feel. Floods of emotions overwhelm and warm me in this frigid winter season, in which is typically empty, searching, yearning, stress, and turmoil.
I am avoiding what I have solely focused on consistently without much fail for the last year and a half. I have one lurking looming B -that haunts and was poor judgement from my ignorant "teacher" (if he could be called that)- in that last 6 semesters.
This semester.... I am struggling even receiving a B in my my 4 credit hour research class. This brain- not made for research. I cannot force my group to do shit for my "practice" class.
Can I please just go help kids now?? Can I please get paid $25,000 a year with my BASW now?? Can I be a broke social worker wearing old clothes because I can't afford new ones (NOT because my lack of style!) and either gaining or losing a significant amount of weight from the exhausting and depleting myself of my energy and giving it to kids and families who need it??
Do I REALLY need to write a research proposal? Because I am absolutely lacking in passion for it! I am not passionate about numbers and percentages, even if it is conducive to my knowledge of " " subject. I am interested and passionate about stories. Do I REALLY need to construct a proposal for MACRO social work and create a fake project/program?? Maybe? But I am out of drive for "fake" things.
I have never felt more real. I recognize and feel the interconnectedness all around me. In me. Through me. It uses me. I have never felt so content- thrilled really- to be used.
In 2 weeks:
* 25 page group paper & presentation on the create of our "program" & a 30 minute presentation to go with it.
* 15 page Advocacy project, which is fake bullshit, scrapping up whatever just for a grade because there is too much else whipping us in these grueling weeks
* An 10?? page research proposal (which is due in ohh 12 hours) in which I am completely utterly lost on how to methodically complete...Hmm, or begin for that matter. Again- lack of passion.
* A pre-final essay expressing my "knowledge on the PREPARE & IMAGINE papers (on each subject we have written/going to write 30 pages on... condense this how?)
* 3 "small" assignments to wrap up research & macro practive
* Take home final
* 3 in class finals... 2 of which are comprehensive... Ummm please remind me of what I am supposed to have comprehended??? Because I sure as hell don't know.
Papers and presentation due during DEAD WEEK... Whatever that means. And then papers and presentations the week OF finals week. hahaha.
Perfectionism.... Haunting me, but lacking the motivation to it fuel it. It is DEAD. My brain, still here. Still in tack. Still ever viciously churning. But part of it is ASLEEP. My drive. Oh it is there. Ever present. Pushing me. But it is not concerned with season of falsity. Falsity being the lack of application or tangible practice occurring with this school stuff. I want to keep my GPA at a 3.97. I would love to raise it to a 3.99. I will cry when I get a B this semester. I will beat myself up and say why did I put this off, or why didn't I try harder. Or what is wrong with my dumb brain. I may act like a child and pout and stomp around. But in the grand scheme... I have grown a lot this semester. This dead week will not be the death of me.
I will pray. I will seek. I will stop letting my mind drift and wonder with beautiful distractions. Perhaps the healthiest distractions I have ever encountered. No. for this last week- 7 days- 168 hours. I am going to focus on the tasks at hand. One at a time. Praying in between and during.
BLAH
No more complaining. It fuels the negativity and apathy. I cannot risk instillation of more apathy.
No more getting lost in that mental Bermuda triangle in my head.
NEED: Everyone to prettttyyyy much leave me alone for the next 168 hours. I wanna help and listen and be there. But I need to focus. I need to not talk and complain and vent. Venting is not always healthy. Need to go to my bubble. Put on my headphone and tune out- zone out. I am actually incredibly great at that. I can use my old negative coping mechanism as a positive current utilization of skill. The skill to zone out and disappear into my own.
NEED: My boyfriend to love me through this time of ugliness (physically & personality wise).
NEED: Pray & believe
NEED: Supernatural motivation. Supernatural intervention of time. Supernatural peace. Supernatural intervention. And supernatural belief that I can do this with Him
NEED: Get through these next 168 hours.
Oh no.
I'm avoiding school again. This time I am yearning to relish in my... happiness, joy, content, love. I want to just FEEL. I have shoved and stuffed feelings. I have ignored God's incessant tugging.
Now I'm feeling and it's what I want to feel. Floods of emotions overwhelm and warm me in this frigid winter season, in which is typically empty, searching, yearning, stress, and turmoil.
I am avoiding what I have solely focused on consistently without much fail for the last year and a half. I have one lurking looming B -that haunts and was poor judgement from my ignorant "teacher" (if he could be called that)- in that last 6 semesters.
This semester.... I am struggling even receiving a B in my my 4 credit hour research class. This brain- not made for research. I cannot force my group to do shit for my "practice" class.
Can I please just go help kids now?? Can I please get paid $25,000 a year with my BASW now?? Can I be a broke social worker wearing old clothes because I can't afford new ones (NOT because my lack of style!) and either gaining or losing a significant amount of weight from the exhausting and depleting myself of my energy and giving it to kids and families who need it??
Do I REALLY need to write a research proposal? Because I am absolutely lacking in passion for it! I am not passionate about numbers and percentages, even if it is conducive to my knowledge of " " subject. I am interested and passionate about stories. Do I REALLY need to construct a proposal for MACRO social work and create a fake project/program?? Maybe? But I am out of drive for "fake" things.
I have never felt more real. I recognize and feel the interconnectedness all around me. In me. Through me. It uses me. I have never felt so content- thrilled really- to be used.
In 2 weeks:
* 25 page group paper & presentation on the create of our "program" & a 30 minute presentation to go with it.
* 15 page Advocacy project, which is fake bullshit, scrapping up whatever just for a grade because there is too much else whipping us in these grueling weeks
* An 10?? page research proposal (which is due in ohh 12 hours) in which I am completely utterly lost on how to methodically complete...Hmm, or begin for that matter. Again- lack of passion.
* A pre-final essay expressing my "knowledge on the PREPARE & IMAGINE papers (on each subject we have written/going to write 30 pages on... condense this how?)
* 3 "small" assignments to wrap up research & macro practive
* Take home final
* 3 in class finals... 2 of which are comprehensive... Ummm please remind me of what I am supposed to have comprehended??? Because I sure as hell don't know.
Papers and presentation due during DEAD WEEK... Whatever that means. And then papers and presentations the week OF finals week. hahaha.
Perfectionism.... Haunting me, but lacking the motivation to it fuel it. It is DEAD. My brain, still here. Still in tack. Still ever viciously churning. But part of it is ASLEEP. My drive. Oh it is there. Ever present. Pushing me. But it is not concerned with season of falsity. Falsity being the lack of application or tangible practice occurring with this school stuff. I want to keep my GPA at a 3.97. I would love to raise it to a 3.99. I will cry when I get a B this semester. I will beat myself up and say why did I put this off, or why didn't I try harder. Or what is wrong with my dumb brain. I may act like a child and pout and stomp around. But in the grand scheme... I have grown a lot this semester. This dead week will not be the death of me.
I will pray. I will seek. I will stop letting my mind drift and wonder with beautiful distractions. Perhaps the healthiest distractions I have ever encountered. No. for this last week- 7 days- 168 hours. I am going to focus on the tasks at hand. One at a time. Praying in between and during.
BLAH
No more complaining. It fuels the negativity and apathy. I cannot risk instillation of more apathy.
No more getting lost in that mental Bermuda triangle in my head.
NEED: Everyone to prettttyyyy much leave me alone for the next 168 hours. I wanna help and listen and be there. But I need to focus. I need to not talk and complain and vent. Venting is not always healthy. Need to go to my bubble. Put on my headphone and tune out- zone out. I am actually incredibly great at that. I can use my old negative coping mechanism as a positive current utilization of skill. The skill to zone out and disappear into my own.
NEED: My boyfriend to love me through this time of ugliness (physically & personality wise).
NEED: Pray & believe
NEED: Supernatural motivation. Supernatural intervention of time. Supernatural peace. Supernatural intervention. And supernatural belief that I can do this with Him
NEED: Get through these next 168 hours.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Alive!
I just found this poem!! From when I finally reestablished my relationship with God after totaling my & receiving my 2nd DUI from <2009>
ALIVE
(12/29/09)
ALIVE
(12/29/09)
Sin tented
lenses
Reveal the
real me
Everything
tenses
But now I
can see
Now I run to
You
Not worthy
of this
You see my
heart through,
Not merely
exist
Free from
that burden
Those
shadows You’ve slain
You’re love
is certain
Even through
my pain
Exposed and
unsure
You build me
back up
Mending what
I tore
You cannot
corrupt
Reshape and
remold
Take me I am
Yours
Ready to
unfold
To You my
soul pours
You are
everything
All else
fades away
Only You
remain
Decaying dismay
Guide my
every step
Though tough
to revive
I’m alive,
I’m alive!
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