Waiting

It is such a relief I can write this blog again. I have also started to write in my journal again. I kept waiting to feel like writing or blogging. I kept waiting for the perfect time or idea or something. I would compose posts while driving, but get home and not post. I have no idea what allowed the storm to pass, but I'm awfully glad it did.

About six years ago I went through a very tough time in my life. It was filled with despair and loss and I truly felt I would never get over it. During that time I wrote in my journal daily, sometimes hourly. It was a necessity to keep from completely falling apart, but also a record of dark times. And at one time I couldn't bear the thought that that much misery was floating around in words in a journal . . . so I ripped it all up. There were a few pages I am sorry I got rid of. They were not despairing, but thoughtful insights -- even the beginning of a short story I thought I might write about the whole miserable experience. Destroying that journal and tossing it out was a good thing and I have even come to peace about the few pages I used to pine for. I didn't want that much hurt to reside anywhere.

But after the destruction, I was not able to use a journal for a long time. I would write, desultorily, but never with any help coming from it. Writing has always been cathartic for me. It allows me to see what is really going on. Sort of like writing out involved dreams and then going, "ah ha! I know what has been bugging me!" Losing that medium was tough. I felt adrift.

I have known for the past couple months that I am in a state of waiting. Have you ever read the amazing poems of Lawrence Ferlinghetti? I discovered him in college and fell in love with I am Waiting and the oft repeated phrases " I am waiting. . ." and ". . . a rebirth of wonder," which have always spoken to me at the very center of my being! Over the years it hasn't bothered me to wait, for I know that the rebirth of wonder will appear. Of course, wonder fades and waiting starts up again, but knowing that never discourages me. Even at my lowest, even when I think I just will never be a trusting person ever again, there at the back of my being are Ferlinghetti's lines

I am awaiting
perpetually and forever
a renaissance of wonder

I don't know if I've found what I was waiting for. I do know I have come to a place that is more centered. I can write again in a way that is healing and makes me smile. I've almost gotten to the place of seeing how to maintain both the pretty pink blog, which is all smiles, and this much more honest one.

Right now all I'm waiting for is Spring!

Aha

I love discovering new things about myself. You'd think, having lived with my self lo these many years, I would know me. And I do . . . and yet . . .

Perhaps it's a little like being in a long-term relationship and discovering a new thing about your partner. Or learning something new about your kids. . .

But back to my "aha."

I am working on opening a new business. The current stage is completely solo. I work in the space, getting it ready by myself. I have put a few feelers out for help, but no takers, so it's all up to me. This is fine, I know how I want to do things and I like my own company. Usually I take a lunch break and go out to a place that is close and cheap, but I have been worried that it was a financial luxury I ought not to do.

Yesterday I stayed home and worked all day. I must admit I got a whole lot accomplished. But at the end of the day I felt rather isolated, and unappreciated. I read a response to a comment on Vanessa's blog, which made me feel really good, and it hit me. The difference yesterday was the human contact I missed at lunch.

Since I go to lunch there most days, the workers know me. They smile. Actually, some of them light up when they see me. They ask about my kids, tell me about theirs. I'm not sure you could call it friendship. I only know their names because they wear badges. If they know mine its cuz sometimes I use my debit card. Whatever it is, it matters.

The funny thing is that once I get my food, I sit in a back corner with my nose in a book. I don't talk to anyone else, I read.

But just the act of getting in my car, driving to lunch, walking in and ordering makes all the difference in my day. It is the human contact we all need. That feeling of being seen and "gotten" and also seeing and getting others.

The other nice thing about this revelation is I no longer feel guilty going out to lunch. It's not a frivolous waste of money, it's just a way to stay connected to the world.

I wish you could see the smile on my face! It's nice to learn something new about myself!