I’ve played host to a circus procession of unruly thoughts since yesterday afternoon.
After a good, but not always comfortable day working outside with a friend – can you say “Apocalyptical Lightning” – I felt undone.
A pall descended as I drove to a friend’s home. It was as if the skin I was in was too small and all of the worries of the day suddenly grew into mammoths fighting for space in an elevator.
After swapping the hi/lows of the day and our copy of The Giving Tree, my friend and I sat and laughed a bit until I left and crawled towards bed with hours of daylight left.
For the first time in a very long time, sleep seemed like a nifty escape. That lasted for a whole 35 minutes. Woohoo.
So I pulled on my favorite red tee and running shorts and took to the road. Two blocks away and having left the phone in the Hobbit House, I pulled into the library because LIBRARIES ALWAYS HELP.
Leaving the library shockingly empty-handed, I headed towards Sonic for a tonic of diet strawberry limeade. As always, the carhop was a nice kid (which helped) and I followed my long-ago friend, Renee Hill’s, example and tipped him because he works hard and he brought my limeade.
Then off past The Little Grill and over the dam as I chased a magnificent storm to the north and light show to the west and setting sun. At the dam, I climbed on top of old limestone walls and stood looking over water and sky. Sipped my Sonic tonic. Cried out to the Unseen/Unknown and stood arms akimbo like an old Peter Pan with an unruly ponytail.
Still no calm within. I was running out of both daylight and non-peanut butter options.
A few lightning bugs later, I climbed back into the Vibe and took the long winding road through my thoughts and the Flint Hills to that mecca of peace and inner healing, Target, where I purchased an umbrella for me and beef jerky for #1 college senior.
Better, but still struggling beneath the weight of fear, guilt (I’m failing again!), frustration, loneliness, more guilt (I have so much “framily” & am so fortunate!), and a touch of despondency, I headed home.
How can I have sought wisdom so diligently and worked so hard to end up at this intersection of restructuring/tiny home/over 45/singing solo and Plan Z? What is the point?
Some things, even a library and a limeade won’t cure.
Pals are loving and funny, but the pain still pervades the day.
Even naps aren’t foolproof.
The Scrabble app is good for a game, but will not solve a community’s problem with loneliness or my need for accomplishment and connection.
Resumes continue to go out. I’m helping pals out when opportunity and availability intersect. I did go to (most of) church the other day.
And like most of us, I am doing my best.
We must remember that what we see is not the full story.
We miss so much context with our limited information and well-considered assumptions.
Reserve judgement for tennis line judges.
You may wonder why I’m not like “normal people (my) age”…well, I do, too. Yesterday, I considered joining the herd with their sensible shoes and modulated days. Perhaps that is why all the past prayers, effort, wisdom seeking, and hard work ended here (end stop) where the idea of a rousing “second act” is more accurately a “10th act” of remaking.
Still searching for the north star (and trying to kick the mumble-y mammoths to the curb).