then.
I used to be sensitive about my height. I no longer am. I figure that if I were any shorter, I probably wouldn’t be me. And although life feels out of sync with my heart right now and more than a little unrecognizable, to wake up suddenly somebody else would be even less recognizable, I think.
I used to get quoted a line a lot. One that said something about being born with a silver spoon in my mouth–which is what a traveling prophet had said about me a long time ago. Nobody quotes that to me much anymore, not unless they are making a joke. Sometimes that silver spoon feels very far away. It’s easier to believe in it for others, but not so much for me. What’s easy to remember is how I was born: asleep, mouth closed tightly with nothing remotely like a spoon nearby. Basically, in my own little world. I like to think I go back there most nights when I fall asleep.
I used to think I’d be with one person forever. Now I know that I won’t. And thank God for this, I must say. That might sound mean, but believe me when I say that you probably don’t know the half of it. And if what it comes down to is a glorious smash of a willowtree figurine that represents nothing of what actually happened, well at least that thing breaks and breaks like it means it and there are so many pieces left on the ground that it can never get put back together again and you feel like look! it’s just like your heart but wait, no, everyone says you’re doing so well now, you’re eating and you fill out the bum of your jeans again. But they don’t know. And you’re tired of talking about it but you don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with yourself. So you walk and you get bitten by bugs and you watch the sun all brightly orange in the sky and you wonder absently how hot that sun really is, were you to touch it, but then no, that could never happen. People don’t touch the sun. But there are so many things that shouldn’t happen and they do, they just do, so maybe who knows? perhaps you will touch the sun.
I used to be sentimental. About things, I guess. My parents laughed at me because I kept so very many things in my room that, often, they would spill out into the rest of the house. And then when it came down to cleaning my room, it would be nearly impossible because of the monumental amount of all those things!, I’d say to my parents. And they would get upset or they would close the door and usually I much preferred the latter, can you blame me? But now. Now I look at many of my things and I just don’t care that much at all. I admire other people’s things; I am glad they have them. Glad their houses are so beautiful and that they have pictures framing the places they’ve been and the people they love all over their walls. But I look at some of my things and I feel nothing at all. At least the things that I had when I was that other person–the one who never did wonder how hot it really would be to touch the sun.
I used to be normal. Or at least, relatively so. Now I get very sad sometimes. I get a feeling like claustrophobia at times, when I have to leave I have to leave I have to leave it’s not personal but I have to leave. I go on long walks. I even go sometimes at night, which is something that I used to be too scared to do.
I used to be so afraid that life will change. Now I rather hope it does. In the sense that I will not stay here, at least. Here where my heart is reacting to what’s happened; here where I wonder what’s left sometimes. Because I know there are many days ahead and always, the good will outnumber the bad, and I will continue to quote my friend John and say miracles happen, so why not to me? Because they have and they will and I will see good things and know good things and have better things to wonder at than the temperature of the sun and whether or not it would melt me so much, should I touch it.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as bum, God, heart, John, life, lot one, nothing, silver spoon, spoon, sun, t touch, touch the sun
My name is Jessica and this is a nice, quiet space that I like to cram with words.
Sometimes, life just sucks, doesn’t it? And even when it gets better, wonderful really, it still sucks a little in some way. Praying for you always.
Also? I’m so glad you’re not sensitive about your height any more. Because 5’8″ is pretty much the coolest height you can possibly be.
agreed about 5″8, for sure.
and yes, life just really hurts sometimes–but I know the parts that don’t hurt make the parts that hurt worth it, if that makes any sense…:)
You handled a really difficult day with grace and strength. I mean, what else can you do, really? You can’t control what gets thrown you way – you can control how you react to it.
These are tough times. No way around it. But I think anytime you can ask you yourself, “Well, would I trade my life now with the one I had one year ago?” and answer “heck no!” then you’re at least you’re doing better than you were.
And the smashing of a willow tree figurine might just appear on my blog sometime soon. Remember, that makes it all worth it, remember?
Weird, my comment didn’t go through.
The willow tree smashing incident here:
http://www.chasingmist.com/2010/07/07/smashing-a-willow-tree-figurine/
I don’t know if I handled it with grace and strength…but at least it’s over. as is the part of life where I am in a false relationship–and yes, I would never ever trade places with the me one year ago. Never.
Remember remember remember….
I have this “no editing” policy on blog comments, and sometimes it really bites me in the buttocks.
and yes, the smashing of the figurine makes it TOTALLY WORTH IT, lol.
Jess..you are so honest and transparent..so beautiful..you have walked in so much grace and continue to..i am here for you anytime…
I know you are…thank you so much…and grace–I am trying to walk in it, at least.
Your hilarious and I find myself wanting to laugh hard one minute and bawl my eyes out the next. I’d also like to kick your ex in the butt and key his car! But, I call myself “saved” so I will pray instead. But my flesh wants to do the other, just incase you wondered. I believe in super heros. Your cape is pretty cool. Just so you know.
Is this really Rita Springer!?
Well now, I am gonna be potentially annoying and say whoa! this is Rita springer and she’s like famous! and these are her words…:) and honestly, I’d be grateful to read such kind and funny words, even if I’d never heard of you. And in this case especially, I’m pretty sure it takes a superhero to know one. Thank you. So very much…;)
You should write a book! If I found out you had…I would buy a million copies and give them to all my friends. Problem is…I don’t have a million friends, so I might buy 5 copies (hardback of course) and wrap them in Christmas paper and stick them under the tree!
Sigh. I might need more friends huh? It just means…you rock!
R
I actually find the idea of five good christmas-present-giving friends a lot more appealing than a million;-) though I bet there are a million people who would line up to be your friend-however, that could be pretty strange, too. I am not a huge fan of lines anyway. So perhaps you could sit them down on couches–ones that zig-zag, specifically, and then you wouldn’t have to be weirded out by a million people standing in a line to be your friend…
And about a book. That is one of my dreams. I am wondering what kind it should be, though…but thank you VERY MUCH for the encouragement–it means quite a lot. And when it happens, I will be sure to send you as many as you’d like for under your tree.
I know this feeling. When it happens I always feel afraid that I will offend someone by letting slip that I feel this way and that they will take it personally. I had no idea that you dealt with this too.
People are just too intense sometimes.
people certainly are just too intense sometimes–myself included, I suppose. And yes, I absolutely deal with that. Most parties I go to, I have to try to make myself NOT feel that way. It’s weird, but I figure it’s okay too. And sometimes it’s the right thing to go–and sometimes it’s the right thing to stay. The tricky part is figuring out which is which, I suppose.
Jess, I love that you share your feelings so freely with us. It kind redeems mankind for me a little bit. I also love that you love to blog. It kinda inspires me. I love the way that you use words beautifully to describe things, express your feelings, and maintain sanity. I love you.
the maintaining sanity part is huge for me. seriously, writing all this stuff out makes me feel so much better–so I guess I blog as much for myself as I do for anyone else. And I am grateful that you keep coming back to read it–you’re so very kind, Rachel:)