Tag Archives: waiting

The Possible Underneath

We are struggling pretty hard these days. We get paid on Friday morning and by Friday morning we are broke (yea, you read that right). I am barely keeping the car company off my ass, and most nights I spend the wee hours of the morning hoping the loud pickup trucks ambling by are not tow trucks. Rent is paid late, but seriously who has $1500 on the first, ever?  I slowly pass by the almond butters, the salmons and the exotic fruits and veggies for the staples: peanut butter, fish sticks and iceberg lettuce (or frozen brocc). We are in the sweet spot of making too much on paper but making too little in the real world. It can be hard to dream under these circumstances, yes? Ah…but I manage.

Don’t get me wrong, we have joyous moments. We play board games with the kids (when we tie them down) or throw caution to the wind and rent an odd movie or two (The Oath is so random). We forget about bills, empty bank accounts and pickup trucks rolling by for stretches at a time. A slobbery smile from Cookie or an out of place dance move from The Girl or an absurd comment from The Boy peek under the blanket of stress, for a moment. And in the quiet moments, when the house is quiet and the only sound is stillness, I dream.

Possibility is a constant. It never fades. It is always there to be rummaged through. It is why I lose myself in the stillness and dream. I dream of writing. I dream of creating a space all my own. I dream of vacations. I dream of being better than Sir King. I dream of my children rolling their eyes at the mention of my books from a stranger/classmate/teacher. I dream of big oaks and a conversation with Madam O. I dream about me, the little green sprout, pushing through the cold, uncomfortable blanket of snow.

It is not impossible. Nothing is impossible. It feels like it. My God does it feel like it, but underneath all of this heavy, there is something…possible. No, this isn’t comfy. It affects the sight and the mind. It makes things appear so much different than it is making it hard to navigate. It is easy to get lost when everything is covered. But the minuscule, lush green beacon of light poking through the blinding white is a reminder that everything is possible….I just have to hang on and dig a little deeper. I have to rummage through the possible and grab something, anything, and try it on for size. There is nothing to lose but opportunities not seized.

~SM

A [Voice] Is A [Voice]…No Matter How Small

“What promises has God revived in your heart to trust him for and believe again? What has He whispered to your heart?” (Grit & Virtue)

I have been trying to answer this question for a week now and nothing has jumped out. Thankfully, the fog I have lived in recently is lifting, but it still hasn’t cleared completely. Perhaps once it does, I can hear. But with the little peace and sunshine parting the icky weather, I can hear something. A [voice] is a [voice]….no matter how small (smile).

Horton, one of the world’s largest creatures, is a gentle giant who happens to hear the smallest voice. The voice was so small and so quiet, hardly no one could hear it. But, here came along a large, loud being open enough to hear what others would not…could not. Despite ridicule and some bumps, he listened to the voice and vowed to help whoever was behind it. He listened. He allowed himself to believe it, and his heart was big enough, open enough to receive it.

Taking a lesson from Horton, I am listening to the little Who in my soul. I cannot speak to the promises God has revived in my heart. I can’t hear that at the moment. If I turn everything off, close my eyes and tune in I can hear ‘peace’. Amongst the static in my ears, just under the current of thoughts, I can hear peace.

Perhaps that is all I am meant to hear at the moment.  God knows I have had enough to listen to this year. Maybe to absorb the goodness of the small voice, He’s giving it in tiny baby doses. Just a small voice, willing to be heard amongst the big, loud world.

With peace comes so much for me. It is pregnant with endless possibilities. With peace, I gain vision, voice, confidence, love, and courage (to name a few). From peace, the birth of a better, tamer, wiser me is inevitable.

I definitely will not complain about not knowing or hearing it all right now. Instead, I will hold the little speck of peace and carry it with me keeping it safe. When the time is right, the voice will be heard loud and clear.

~SM

The Meltdown

I had a meltdown. If I was the Wicked Witch, I would have been all smoke.

I have been working since I was eleven. I have been getting a paycheck with someone else’s signature on it for almost thirty years. I have clocked in and out, followed someone else’s rules and adhered to someone else’s dress code for the better part of twenty. Cookie was my chance to escape. With three months of self-time, I could create a new biz and quit the rat race. At some point, between daydreaming about what I thought I would be able to do and sleepwalking out of sheer exhaustion, nothing was accomplished. With two weeks left until my jail sentence began, I decided to get serious about a seven-year-old idea. But then….

I saw it. I saw my idea on someone’s Etsy page and people were buying it. My idea. Her page. I slid off the couch and onto the floor (yes, literally) and laid in the fetal position shivering. My idea. The one I had drawn up, attempted to create. The idea I had sitting on the dusty mental shelf waiting for the perfect time—for this time—to put into action. That one. It was on some strange lady’s page with her stupid smiling face and her stupid bio. Mine. Mine. Mine.

I managed to get up off the floor before the tears came. I went to the bathroom and burst into tears. Why the hell could I never win? Was I just destined to be a worker bee? Didn’t God know I was tired? Did He not know I have to work hard just to bust a fake smile from the corner cubical under those harsh fluorescent lights? Didn’t He realize I want to create something too? I tore all my little positive quotes off the bathroom mirror and just stood there staring. I sighed. Of course, He knew. He also knew I was ungrateful. I was spoiled and now, feeling a bit too entitled.

The idea wasn’t meant to sit on a dusty mental shelf. The idea was meant to be given and worked. I am the one who let life get in the way. I let vacations, relaxation, concerts and tasty food sneak its way in and steal time. I let dating and wedding planning slide in and take its space. I am the one who let the idea get away. The Etsy Lady got the idea too and she ran with it. I sat with mine and watched it fester and mold and had a meltdown when it wasn’t fit to consume. Tsk tsk.

Of course, I could go through with it anyway. I could do all the extra work to do my version of the idea (cuz yes, they are a little different), but do I have the energy though? Do I have the money? Do I have the time? Nope. Nada. No. I will just chalk up yet another idea gone to waste (the personal shopping thing still burns my buns every time I see it every friggin where–another story for another time) and pull up my big girl undies, swipe my key card and clock in.

Yes, it sounds like giving up, but it isn’t. Some of us are meant to be where we are and there is nothing wrong with that. Perhaps if I just stand still and accept the position I am in I will be much better off, and I won’t need so many stinking Post-its cluttering up my bathroom mirror. I won’t have to constantly remind myself of how great I can be if I can just be great. Right here. Right now. Maybe if I stop thinking about a way to escape, the guard will just hand over the key.

I am going to work on being present and happy in the moment. If I can stand here, now, I can stand there later. And I am a-okay with that.

~SM