I didn’t really mean to sit down to write today. It wasn’t on my to-do list (though, I have been thinking about how much I’m not writing these days). But as the rain splashes down on rooftops all over Orlando and the grey settles in for it’s third (I think, who’s keeping track?) day, I actually wanted to write.
I’ve been in work-mode over here, creating a lot. If you follow me on Instagram you’ve heard that a bit this week. I surfaced for air, still feeling far from my goals being completed due to umpteen million steps between here and there, to notice that people are sharing how they’re “over it.” I started to feel with them, perhaps you. I cried as I engaged the heaviness of that feeling last night. Today, I feel like crying again but in celebration of it honestly.
There’s a sweetness in seeing that it doesn’t take too long to come to the end of ourselves. When the whole wide world shuts down, mere weeks (maybe 6-7 for many in my area) is all it has required for us to be confronted with the missing, with what’s rising in place of all of the things that used to occupy us, with our habits and go-to comforts. There’s so much beauty in this mess we’re in. The standstill is awakening us.
What are you being alerted to, awakened to, annoyed by?
What are those pieces teaching you about you and what’s underneath?
Where has it come from?
Personally, I already spend quite a bit of time by myself in life so I’ve delved deeper into the quiet. Some days into Amazon Prime. Sometimes into sugar. Often into work. I’ve been tinkering and considering and collaborating and looking at the clock wondering how it is that I haven’t stepped outside on many a day. I’ve pressed into prayer and I’ve avoided it. I’ve slept in and I’ve stayed up way too late for this early morning riser. I’ve walked the hallway between my living room, office, and my bedroom a zillion times. I’ve opened my blinds in the morning and closed them in the evening. I’ve cooked. I’ve baked. I’ve taken a course and haven’t completed all of the steps—I’ve wondered if that’s okay, if I’m okay, because I feel tired and over-stimulated and over the even good-for-me input. I’ve wondered if the work I’m doing, the building—the not so glamorous behind the scenes activities—matters. I’ve wondered if it matters that it matters or if my simple faithfulness to steadily move the dial forward is what actually matters. Commitment to the call and purpose I have in my heart—I’ve remembered that this is what matters.
There’s a lot to be said for how we’re processing this season. I’ve noticed the pressure I still place on myself in the way of perfection. I’ve also noticed the pressure I place on myself to not care. One extreme or the other, perhaps you, too, have noticed how it can be a challenge to live in the middle, choosing to live on the edges instead?
I’ve seen how so much of how I do something or the way I think about it is ultimately connected back to wanting to be loved, protected, and provided for in this life. Those deep needs and desires manifest in some pretty interesting mindsets and behaviors in my life. I think that’s what I’m being awakened to again—Love. I often associate its requirements looking a lot like me losing myself for the sake of someone else’s forward movement, happiness, etc, or the other side of the equation for me, the one that says I have to earn it.
Not everyone responds this way, of course. How do you see yourself in relationship to Love? What do you think it requires of you? What do you require of Love? (What I mean is, what do you require of Love so that you know you are loved, protected, and provided for—what demands do you place upon it?)
My awakening has ushered in an invitation I’ve received before. It says, “Come see how I do it—listen, watch, and learn from Me.” It’s not about extremes. It’s about the middle. LIFE is found in the middle. It’s not about burden but freedom. And honestly, I think many of us are uncovering where we’re currently not free. I think we’re being given this beautiful gift of time and space to actually look at and understand our burdens. I believe it’s so valuable to recognize how some sources have been posturing themselves as freedom, but it’s a lie.
So we have this wonderful opportunity to unmask them, learn about them, discover where they’ve come from in our stories, and the agreements we’ve made to walk hand-in-hand with them. This piece of the awakening is perhaps the most profound. And at the end of the day, I hope we don’t wish this moment of global Pause away too quickly in the head-and-heart-space of “over it.” Instead, I hope we willingly engage in what is so we truly come out of this season fully awake.
