Well with my soul.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as computer, everything, feints, fresh start, half, hymn, italicize, italics, ketchup, nighttime, old hymn, onlookers, phone, progress, revelation, sandwiches, spring, suspension of disbelief, way, zeal
The nighttime is magnificent; the spring, the fresh start that I need. You know that old hymn (does anyone else love the way the ‘n’ sits in close to the ‘m’? It makes the word, I think. So very different from ‘him’–though it sounds the same)–but the hymn, ‘It is well with my soul’?
I feel that way right now.
If you don’t mind, I’m reveling in it, for it’s a special thing to feel this way.
Oh gosh, I miss italics. I’ve been blogging from my phone for the past week and a half and the worst part about this is that I have no ability to italicize words. When I get a computer again, I will have to italicize everything for at least a week straight. So if you wonder at my emphatic zeal, don’t say you weren’t warned.
Why do I feel so well in my soul? I’m not quite sure. Maybe all these feints at trust are starting to be the real thing. Maybe I’m actually doing better. Maybe progress is much more definable than I sometimes think. Maybe it’s more like falling in love. You know, you remember when it happened, or at least when you realized it. You were captured by the revelation and all he did was hand you ketchup. But suddenly you weren’t just eating a sandwich; you were a girl in love, eating a sandwich. You didn’t need the sandwich anymore; it was a prop–it helped to build the scene, make it look real and presentable so the onlookers had the suspension of disbelief, thought that this was all that was happening: ketchup. Sandwiches. A girl and a boy.
But like I said, you no longer needed the sandwich. You could get anywhere on this. You could get to the moon and back on love. And suddenly you knew it.
Maybe I know I’m moving towards better. Maybe my heart is tentatively feeling around for some ground that does not crumble and is not made of someone who can leave, and is therefore precarious.
Maybe it was warm enough for shorts today and the night air was downright kind. Soft against my legs and arms.
Maybe I started a new song with my writing partner (how do you like the sound of that, Shane? And if my brother Jason can have one, why can’t I?); maybe I had a great conversation with a new friend; maybe I had a half of a piece of a half of a piece of cheesecake.
And maybe I know that all this right here is good. And all this right here matters.
And it is well with my soul.
Yes, yes, yes it is.
the fresh start room.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as America, brother jonathan, dear god, Delaware, fresh start, God, honeymoon, jonathan, little trip, lot, question, reason america, start, Tiger
So my brother Jonathan has a new blog up and running.
I just read his post about a first that he recently experienced. And um, it’s one heck of a first, I’ve got to say.
Which reminds me of today.
As if I really need a reminder.
As if the email I got from outofyourlife.com isn’t enough. The one confirming that they did, indeed, receive the breakup box I sent them with all the jewelry that has lost its meaning. And oh yeah, it ends with this special piece of encouragement:
Who needs a honeymoon when you can have a fresh start?
And though the only thing that could have made that sentence better is if they had ended it with the word, Tiger–well, who indeed?
And hahaha, who writes this stuff anyway? To which, when I asked him, my friend replied (to this rhetorical question!), Well, you could! And yes, I certainly could. Dear God, but I could.
But I guess another answer to the question, Who writes this stuff anyway? could be: someone whose honeymoon must have really sucked. And actually? I could use a nice little trip to somewhere warm right about now. But yes, it’s true: I could also use a fresh start. No, actually I plan on using a fresh start. And I’m not totally clear on the details yet, but honestly, it’s good. And it’s wide open. And I think there are a lot of windows there.
Kind of like the room I dream of.
It’s got lots of space and doesn’t bother to crowd itself with anything other than music and words and people who love them both. Maybe even some dancing, too. Definitely some dancing. And there is wood, beautiful wooden floors that remind you of forests and how sometimes they lay down and let you walk on them and goodness, but we should be more grateful for this. And then there are large windows and they let in the kind of light that is kind, that illuminates the beauty; and that only allows the safest people to witness the parts of you that are the reason America spends so much money on lotions and creams and padding and things that suck you in. And yes, there’s a grand piano and yes, there’s a guitar made of treewood, and yes, there are many other instruments there because I have good friends who like to sing their stories, too.
And perhaps I will call it the Fresh Start Room. And I will sit in it and make my music and come under the spell of redemption over and over again and not once will I think, I wish I were at Sandals, enjoying a honeymoon with a man who doesn’t love me. Because that sounds a lot like looking at what isn’t and why would anyone waste any time doing that when, look: it’s just about springtime. If that isn’t God’s way of reminding all of us about a fresh start, then fine, I quit. Cause I don’t want to be in a dance that isn’t new again and again anyway; I might as well just watch tv.
Which is why I went and filed the papers today. For real. Signed and stamped and organized and copied and paid for by a check from my recently opened bank account.
And because my marriage has ended with a blow that Delaware kindly cloaks in the word misconduct, this will not take so long after all.
Two to three weeks.
For the state to recognize it’s over.
Although, really, it ended back in August. Well, that’s assuming that it ever really began. In a real way that takes two people, I mean. But yes, whatever it was, ended back in the late summer. It just took me a minute to realize. Okay, it took me a lot of minutes to realize. And added up, I think all those minutes spell H-E-L-L, at least compared to anything else I’ve ever experienced on earth.
And now I’m looking forward to these new minutes. I think they’ll be better. I think they’ll be full of grace. I think I’ll be okay. Dear God, may it be.
