I met myself today

I met myself today. Conversation was light and weighty all at once. We finished the day weary, our smiling eyes brimmed over with tears.

As I walked home, images came to mind that felt like heavy weights on my shoulders. I used to yell at her, quietly but angrily at small mishaps and overly emotional moments. 

At times I would slap her stomach, scrunch it between my fingers, make her bend and move from side to side, just to see the full view. “Not acceptable,” I would say, restricting her from banana bread and warm cups of coffee.

Sometimes I found her on the floor, her back in aching from the strain of exercise. My face would grow hot and I would picture all she wasn’t and all that put her in this place. “You’re hopeless,” were the words I left her with, pulsing with apathy. 

A combination of chocolate and dry weather cause her face to peel and break out in red blotches. I bought moisturizer after cream after medication but it all came to nothing. No improvement was made. “You’re on your own,” I would say and scoff everytime she looked in the mirror. 

Still she would come to me with the flavorful and delicious meals, enough to satisfy a queen. She crafted cookies with rosemary and pies with thyme. She stubbornly enjoyed her coffee mid-morning, another in the evening. 

And yet, her greatest offerings of peace, her petitions for hope were flung aside by my ruthless desires for perfection.

Today I met myself again. She’s been busy in the kitchen, apron stained by chocolate and hands tired from kneading. She makes it outside often, her breathing growing easy, her muscles loosening as she runs the neighborhood streets. 

As we spoke, her eyes implored for approval, a simple word of affection. I smiled, “There must be purpose in your joys and grace in the process.”

I smiled as her eyes sparkled, hopeful, and wondered if I could believe it too. 

“To be resilient, we need to face our shame. shame shuts us down. It prevents us from receiving and giving. Shame causes distance. But we have to see our need for help amidst the shame. I believe resilience comes from facing our weakness and our need and working through our shame. Resilience comes through trusting that redemption and restoration is possible. Resilience relies on the hope that change is possible.” - Edith Reitsema

open space & discipline

As children, we thought discipline to be a negative thing. 8pm bedtime, ice cream on special occasions only, one hour of computer time a day. Even as young adults, we often shrink away from discipline or any authoritative voice. 

As we grow older, as we build our lives and have children of our own, we can’t deny that discipline is necessary. Without it, we could not maintain a job, relationships, or overall health. 

Within the last month, many lives have come to an abrupt halt. Daily tasks, places to be, people to see - everything that was once filled is now empty. What is left is a lingering, taunting space, wondering how we will choose to use it.

In this open-ended space, I’ve come to question why it is so difficult to be disciplined in my writing and general creativity. I’ve waiting for this space for over a year now, so why do I only feel anxiety?

After a few wasted mornings, anxiety-filled afternoons, the answer became clear. I could not find rest because my worth depended on the accomplishments (or lack-there-of) of my day. I built my perspective around how I felt about myself  instead of the truth that I was made to rule over my emotions, over my body, over my time. 

 If I am to bring healing to my mind and to my heart, I must rethink my habits and expectations for a day and replace them with new disciplines which bring an abundance of peace and joy each day. 

Many know that writing is a great love of mine. It is what I want to do the rest of my life, in many different ways. I am created to tell stories, to understand lives I’ve never lived, and share the words that have taken me from very dark places. 

In order to do that well, I’ve realized that my craft shouldn’t fit into my life. Instead, my life should be structured in such a way that I as a creative can thrive and my craft can develop along with it. 

Discipline helps to rebuild a crumbling structure, to set a new framework so that thoughts can seek out new pathways into lighted spaces and grow daisies instead of weeds. 

When this is all said and done, our lives will not return to the way it was once this is all over. But this time, this open space is an opportunity. Though not without difficulty, it is a time with purpose. To rethink and rebuild. To delve deeper. To rest and heal.