Saturday, July 28, 2012

Imagine me in floaties and a gorilla mask

I was talking to a friend recently about how I haven’t blogged in a long time. Her advice to me was simply to start writing, and that’s what I’m doing. Forget aiming at anything, just write. That does not mean I’m not going to edit, but it does mean that I am going to stop sabotaging myself before I even start.  

So now, I’m sitting here waiting to snag a dangling thread of one of the many thoughts running through my mind. This coffee is good. The kids downstairs are annoying, but I bet they’re cuter when you’re watching them instead of trying to concentrate. I wonder how hot is it outside. It’s been a scorcher so far, my first summer in Michigan in over a decade. Thanks for the welcome package. But even without the “old normal” of being in Colorado surrounded by the rough beauty of the mountains and some of my favorite people living in community in such a unique way, I am surprised to find that I’m having a really great summer. It calls into question all of my assumptions of what I think I need to be happy. Which then calls into question all of the time and energy and struggle that I have invested by following those assumptions. I follow the logic warily, like I’m walking into a dark, scary tunnel. So, if I don’t need X, but I’ve been throwing myself on the rocks trying to acquire X… all of that pain has been… unnecessary. Aw crap.

So how do I move forward after realizing that my current guiding principles are all subject to this same possibility? This same inherent flaw of using a faulty mind to gather information through a faulty lens to come to faulty conclusions? What can I do if I can’t trust myself? Like I need more trust issues. And even, to be honest, my thoughts about my faith and my spirituality are part of this discussion as well. The thing that stops me from spiraling into despair is remembering that even if I my ideas of God and His world are off, His ideas of me and my world are not. Even if I get something wrong, it doesn’t change anything about Him. If I believe that the crying child downstairs is wearing floaties and a gorilla mask (I’d be crying, too), it doesn’t mean that it’s true. My perspective, my assumptions, my conclusions – none of them changes anything about reality. They really only limit me. But somehow, He works within those limits, breaking through with His love and grace which I experience more than understand. I am so thankful that it does not depend on me being right.