Waiting On Emergence

A holding pattern for sure. Waiting in anticipation for something to arrive. Or perhaps better said, someone to arrive – me! I’ve had a difficult few weeks just existing, nothing more, nothing less. I’ve stopped my daily routine and simply exist as I heal. Not focused and unable to do more than ‘be’ for the time being. I liken it to the final weeks before a chick cracks the egg open. Nothing much going on, but increasing in size as we wait on emergence.

My hope, my goal, my intention is to emerge with more understanding, more grace and unity to this world, or better said, to the world to which I belong, which isn’t necessarily here. But so far I am in this constant fragile state of non-being. Without paddle nor energy, here I am, biding away the time without counting the hours because it doesn’t matter. Nothing really matters and it’s not me.

The apathy is difficult to navigate even though there’s nothing to navigate since my life is overflowing with apathy. Occasionally there are blips of connections, but they are few and far between. It’s as if there isn’t enough energy for the two tabs to connect often. And so it goes.

Are you having a similar experience?

Where Did “I” Go?

I lost myself along the way. I don’t know how or why I let that authentic me fade away. Well, I guess I know why – because life got in the way, responsibilities, family, kids, divorce, financial and health issues and now look at me. Sometimes I feel like a shadowy figure of my true self. Where the hell did I go?

And who am I? When I dare to go within and reach down to the touchstone of who I am, there’s a void there that was once fulfilled and filled. Overflowing with life, enthusiasm, joy and love. Unafraid to say yes to life, to be goofy, to be present and to be herself. Confident to show her true self without fear. Feeling loved, self-love and appreciated by others. One who smiled without needing encouragement, connected easily with others and who loved life itself.

That self is a mere whisper, so faint that I can barely hear her and I don’t think you can either. But there’s an inner strength within her that is calling me out to write. To figure out how and if I can manage to navigate these coming troubled waters in regards to fixing the heart via surgery. Because yes, my heart is broken. But do I even want to try to go through western medicine to fix it?

There are a lot of layers to my pain and how I arrived at this juncture in my life. I’ve been peeling back the layers for awhile now, hoping to pinpoint the wrong fork in the road I chose so that I could get back on track. But that hasn’t happened yet. Perhaps it’s just as well for that wouldn’t change much. It would only increase the guilt of not being perfect in my choices.

I know I’m hard on myself. If you think I’m hard on you, think again, for I am way worse on me. Nothing I had thought my life would be has occurred the way I planned. Somewhere along the way, I lost me and I can’t find me again. I’m digging through the debris, but there’s no sign, no marker to even show I’m even digging in the vicinity.

God help me that I’m still trying even though there are moments when I want to bail and just let life continue on without modern medicine fixing me. Enjoy what little I have left and do it without fear of reprisal, judgment etc. but that’s not my reality at this point. Too many people rely on me for me to be so selfish, even though I’d like to dare it.

That’s how I’m feeling at this juncture. The evolution of finding me continues…a lifelong adventure that apparently is here to stay.