"Every day I am ready for the funeral."-Band of Horses
"I have come that they might have life and have it to the full."-John 10:10 (NIV)
(*As I sat to write this, I realized that in actuality, it’s
probably a three-parter. Hopefully, my huge readership of four will read each
part—it will all make sense, promise! ‘Just don’t want to bore anyone with my
long-winded nature;-). Part One is most definitely faith-based. I pray though,
not heavy-handed or proselytizing in nature, and worth the read. As always,
thank you so much for taking the time to read my thoughts)
I've had many more frequent periods of "alone time"
recently than I'd like to admit...This, of course causes me a tremendous amount
of introspection in a mind that already thinks far too much/ too hard about
every possible thing. And, as a writer, I begin to see hidden or deeper
meaning/symbolism/ metaphors and analogies in all around me...I began to re-chew over the
former quote from one of my all-time favorite songs--the sentiment of "living
each day as if it's your last," and know that I firmly believe in this, as
do many of the people whom I love. But, how many of us actually live this out on
a daily, or even weekly or yearly basis? How many necessary conversations or
risks or adventures or truthful sharing of feelings or "taking the
plunge" in personal or professional life in ways that will be so
life-enriching and worth it (yet still scary as hell) are left locked in
that shuttered-up and horrifically terrifying Room of Vulnerability in the
recesses of our hearts?
And then the latter--always one of my favorite verses, the quote from that cool Jesus of Nazareth that began the melt of my heart....that resonated from deep within me and that I knew, after my first read, if this guy, this God was real, I wanted--no, needed, to follow Him. I met with a friend a couple of weeks ago who referenced this verse, and what it truly means--to follow Jesus is to live a FULL life. A full life is not one that simply includes adventure and success and love and "blessing". A full life is a life that is visceral-- stripped down at times, bleeding internally in ways that one feels he or she cannot bear...Full of love and adventure, yes. But, full of periods of heartache and loneliness and rock bottoms and moments of true doubt and confusion as well…A life that is "sucked to the marrow". And, I realized that as much as this verse is a well-worn "life motto" for me, I resist that hard full stuff. I'm all for experiencing life, and knowing myself, and loving others, and living an adventurous story, but I've been through the hard stuff--it's like choosing to take a road trip through Kansas after already experiencing that pain on several occasions, and knowing how much I hate the mind-numbing boredom, plentiful fleets o' speed traps, and the rancid scent of cow poop, but still choosing to "embrace it" again. I'm good, thanks!
I think this is what a
"full" life really is, though--experiencing the grief and
heartache without compartmentalizing, without turning away—allowing the tears
and the rending pain, but allowing Joy to shine through those tears…using those
tears to help others…using those tears to break down your own walls, and
letting you go “all in” in love and friendship and life in general. I fail
miserably at this…I am thankful for
this past year, because I can see my wrongs, my Sin in every situation. We all
fall and flounder—we will all let each other down (even those who are most
important to us/ especially those who
are most important to us)—and I have begun to see how my insecurities and my overwhelming
fear of abandonment make it difficult to fully accept the blessing of those who
love me. My walls don’t keep those fears from coming to fruition—they might
even cause them. It’s a hard pill to swallow, and I am working on this.
As many previous posts allude to, the past ten
months of my life have not been my most favorite—the whammies and the hurts
have mostly been blindsiding and have been wholly out of my control. The good
moments and times are beyond articulation, but they melt away more quickly…slip
like quicksand into the past before I am ready to let them go. The difference
though, between this and other hard times, is that I finally love…gulp, me. Due to a U-Haul of baggage and tender, if
not healing scars, I couldn’t fully do this for a very long time…I accept the
numerous flaws and weaknesses that pepper my personality, and while I still
strive to change these things, I can still love me, because my God loves me. “On
My Worst Day”, when I am selfish and self-serving, when I am weak and not fun, when everyone else runs away, my God LOVES me. I know who I am, and, for the most part? I
kinda wanna keep her around.
Thus far, this has f*$*ing nothing to do with climbing, and isn’t
even really centered on a story or an event in the way that my posts usually
evolve. But, when I sat down to write, this is what poured out. Again, as I
hide behind this blog, self-confessional becomes easier, and tends to come out
whether I want it to or not. I just hope that it helps someone other than me.
Thank you for reading, and the “climbing as life”? I’m getting there, promise.
