Down for the Count Up, 6

THAT’S THAT, OCTOBER 1, 2012

Just one day of slight ups and some surprisingly big downs. An attempt to turn things around in a way that would normally bring me down… hasn’t. I’m not as bothered by it as I have been in the past. In fact, my amusement is sickly amusing. Does that mean I am becoming heart-stronger or strongly heading back down the WTH aisle at the IDGAF store?

In spite of all that, I was ok today. Until I found out something that set me back a bit, or a whole lot, to be honest. I convinced myself that I would be ok coming home from Ireland. I didn’t realize how much stock I had put into one, single, solitary, all-focused, not entirely rational, and now non-existent path. Feeling quite foolish, disappointed, and totally without a direction to cast my hopes.

Sometimes GOD quietly closes a door for you. Sometimes HE slams it shut on the foot you’ve stubbornly been using to keep it propped open. I got slammed; a little harder and a little harder to take than my usual god-smack. Of course, I’d been pushing to keep it open. I can only shake my head and glance back over my shoulder. I should have realized it was too difficult an undertaking to be worthwhile.

I’d like to be able to blame the pain on someone else, but no one let me down. I let myself down in a zig-zag, running-after pattern I’ve followed before. You know when you know better and you just can’t stop yourself from bee-lining, full-stinger ready, just can’t avoid buzzing and trying and buzzing and trying and buzzing and trying, only to fail and fail and fail?

It seems now, that the truth blares out. I never had a chance, but still I believed. Stubbornness moves against us more than for us. 
Trying to divest myself of the very emotional investment I have made, chasing rainbows toward an always fictitious pot of gold. I would have done better counting shiny penny moments and tracking mini-triumphs.

It’s a painful blessing to bear: the resounding slam indicates without doubt – my plans were not GOD’s plan. When that happens, there’s nothing left to do, but thank GOD that your toes won’t be jammed up against that door anymore, pick up your heart, and limp off in a new direction. That’s that.

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missing time

anybody miss seven/twenty-one?

i didn’t. i mean i did.

but, i didn’t realize i did, until i did.

well, there went my thirteen year streak.

not surgeries, not five-thirty am internet failures as i’m out the door to ireland.

not polar vortex, not even tornado energy grid failure.

yes, a warning signal. oops, a snoozed reminder. the tone of missing time.

a sweetly snuggly cat or two, supper at one am.

i’m a bit baffled by my notice delay.

i can’t pinpoint it. but, i can twenty/twenty.

a plethra of projects with immoderate commitments.

i’ll tell ya what, tho. it’s been fun.

by ‘fun’ i mean a real challenge. for me.

fascination, curiosity, mind-stretch; un-slight, devoted hours.

gladsome. i’m all game. it’s all good.

stress is part of the good. because, it really is.

i chose the contest. i selected the set. i’m courting skills.

i’m proud of my all-in self.

even if i did crash the word carriage. re-routing ruts.

happily still in it. six more weeks, grappling with goals.

expecting to win at the three. yeah, this is how life should be.

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