Fear

It is almost midnight, and I should be asleep right now, especially since I started the process about 2 hours ago and especially since tomorrow is the first day of my new temp job. But what happens is that often when I lay down, these thoughts start attacking my brain and then one thing leads to another and here I am still awake and frustrated as hell.

Today I finished reading Tuesdays with Morrie. Basically, it is a book of wisdom imparted from a Sociology professor (Morrie) to his former student (Mitch, the author) in the final months of Morrie's life. During one of their sessions, Morrie talks of his most fearful moments when he felt closest to death. The excerpt was so striking, I can not help but share it:

These were horrifying times, he said, and his first emotions were horror, fear, anxiety. But once he recognized the feel of these emotions, their texture, their moisture, the shiver down the back, the quick flash of heat that crosses your brain--then he was able to say, 'Okay, this is fear. Step away from it. Step away.'

I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we're not supposed to cry...

Morrie's approach was exactly the opposite. Turn on the faucet. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. It will only help. If you let the fear inside, if you pull it on like a familiar shirt, then you can say to yourself, 'All right, it's just fear. I don't have to let it control me. I see it for what it is.'

I'm not sure what else to say here, except that I long for days (and nights) when I can be as brave as Morrie and pull on fear like a familiar shirt.

Smart

An older woman at church yesterday told me that she really liked my shoes. She said, "Those are really smart." I loved it. Smart shoes...sounds like something my grandma would say. It's like when people use the word handsome. I love how humbly dignified those old school words sound...let's start bringing them back.

I am still in Texas. Now that my dad is recovering nicely my brother is in the hospital. Apparently he has something called ulcerative colitis. You can go ahead and google that one on your own time. At this rate I had better leave town before I end up in a hospital bed with IV tubes coming out of my arms. All that to say my family has been glad to see the month of March come to an end.

Being in my hometown naturally makes me think of childhood....school, little league, youth group, volleyball, always feeling awkward. My dad's secretary also happens to be my 3rd grade teacher. 3rd grade...I was the smartest kid in my class, always won the spelling bee, was picked for class rep., broke my wrist playing soccer and was excited to have everyone sign my cast, was one of 3 girls in my class and the first to voluntarily play football with the boys at recess. I always made A honor roll, wanted to be friends with weird people (some things never change) and was thrilled when we got to clean our desks with shaving cream.

I can't help but wonder if those were my glory days. I always had this fight in me. I wanted to save the world and solve injustice and stand up for the nerds and freaks. I always loved black people and little kids and animals. I think that I still am all of those things....just a little more confused these days. My mom says that I am her "buffet girl" because I like a little bit of everything. Yesterday I told her I wanted to work on a farm and learn how to grow things and then teach inner city kids how to garden. I'm pretty sure this new whim further proved her theory. I think that being a buffet person is ok. The problem with us types is that we have trouble making decisions for fear that we'll be missing out on something better...we are a very restless breed which can lead to good things like starting a revolution or not-so-good things like never being content in the moment. I often fear the latter will prevent me from the former.

A few years back my pastor preached a series on wisdom from the book of Proverbs. His sermon on decision-making is one that I replay often. He said that looking back on his twenties probably 90% of the decisions he made were from selfish and "wrong" motives, and though he's not sure his percentage is much better now that he's in his 50's, God somehow still managed to bring him to where he's supposed to be. I have a hard time swallowing the fact that God is sovereign enough to work through our anxiety and stupidity and depression and selfishness and all kinds of shit. At times I've been able to digest it. I don't think now is one of those times. But I do think it's time to start making some decisions....small ones, maybe even "wrong" ones. Apparently I'm still able to pick out a "smart" pair of shoes on my own, so maybe there's still hope...