So–it’s been about a week since I have last written. Here’s why: I convinced myself I had nothing enlightening to say. Worried that I had run dry of stories and insights into everyday kind of life. But, this morning, I had an epiphany. It came while I was watching squirrels. Yes. Squirrels. There were 5 of them chasing each other in circles and up and down a large tree across the street. It was entertaining for a few minutes and then I thought, “I have a big tree in my yard too. They used to play in my tree. I wonder why they don’t play my tree anymore? What’s wrong with my tree?” (And now, you too are thinking I may have indeed “run dry”).
The squirrels are important because they triggered my next thought which was a Recovery Reminder that perhaps I was “taking things personally that have nothing to do with me.” Is it possible that the squirrels were not actually playing in the neighbor’s yard just to stick it to me? Could it be that they are just having fun and are actually not even thinking about me at all?
The answer is “yes”, it’s highly probable that the squirrels, and occasionally, people, do things that I choose to take personally but actually aren’t. And that’s when it hit me…my blogging brain was back!!! I knew that if my mind was once again able to learn life lessons from watching squirrels, that there was no end to the insights I could bring to pretty much any ridiculous circumstance that others just might overlook. It may not do the same for you, but it gave my heart a sense of joy and hope that I was afraid I had lost.
You see, I started writing because I was very sick. While I was sick, I had insights into common struggles that helped me navigate my way through my disease as well as my potential for discouragement. In the process, it seemed to help some other people around me who also were prone to similar ailments (physically, emotionally, spiritually). As my body got better and life got crazy and busy and taxing, I felt my serenity slipping.
And then I let myself believe the worst sort of lie; If I wasn’t in perfect spiritual and emotional condition, I had no business talking out loud to anyone about anything significant. I mean, I wonder if I talked about Joy and my family read it? They knew I had been grumpy and mopey for days. What if I pointed out our need for putting first things first and keeping things in perspective right after I chewed out my kid for spilling his milk (in the basement…on the carpet…the whole glass…)? Or maybe I blogged about staying connected to friends and not isolating but never returned your phone call? Wouldn’t all that just make me a big fat phony? But when I had my insight about the squirrels (which, come on, what is more profound that pontificating on squirrel behavior?), I realized that it came because I related it to the craziness that is in me. Not the mature parts. The immature parts.
The disease of self and sin will never fully be eliminated from my life. So, technically, I will never run out of material. I have enough life experience with failure and falling short and screwing up and childish, idiotic behavior to last me indefinitely. It occurred to me that if anyone still reads what I have to say, it probably isn’t, and never was, because they they think I have it all figured out. More likely, it is because maybe they resonate with the parts of me I am willing to confess on paper that most people aren’t.
I am generally not ashamed or embarrassed to admit that I am feeling emotionally threatened by squirrels who choose the neighbor’s tree over mine. And hopefully it makes you feel a little better about your own idiosyncrasies and hang-ups and blunders and down-right sins.
That’s why I started writing, and that’s why I’m not ready to stop. It’s good to be back. I missed you.