During a sporadically rainy-yet-sunshiney drive home tonight, I had the war of the words in my head. Yes, I typed that right — words, not worlds. 🙂
Don’t worry — you don’t need to call me Sybil or anything. I was just concurrently doing about three mental blog posts, although not a blessed one of them is going live. *whew*
But what I will tell you is that I love thunderstorms. Sure, I’m sitting here hoping my computer won’t be struck by lightning and that I won’t lose power (particularly the a/c). But on a more fundamental level, beyond the fact that the smell of rain makes me happy, I know that the storms will wash away the layer of grime on the world and everything will look new, hopeful, clean in the morning.
I’m finding that there is no such thing as a random occurrence anymore. Really. Everything — and I mean everything — is imprinted somewhere, ordained to occur — perhaps conceived in advance in someone’s mind and witnessed/experienced by them or someone close to them.
I have this little hot-pink Post-It Note on my bulletin board at work — I wrote, “Whatever can be intellectualized can be realized.” I don’t know if anybody other than me said it … all I know is that I was wandering around inside my head and realized that my dreams are as good as anybody else’s and that I wanted to externalize them.
I asked someone just a run-of-the-mill question recently — I just wanted to know how they were or what they were up to. The question was almost rhetorical, reflexive in nature. And the other party knew it and asked why I keep asking all the time when I know the answer. And I’d said that I was wondering if the answer might be different that day.
Again, a random, seemingly meaningless conversation — certainly not a memorable one … or was it? I mean, it stuck in my head. I’ve since pondered how I’m always asking questions inside my head — who am I, what am I supposed to be, how can I do my best, how can I sparkle, what am I bringing to this conversation/webpage/existence/relationship.
More importantly, I’ve realized that the answers don’t always have to remain the same. No matter how tough the question.
We get annoyed with little kids when they won’t accept a simple statement of fact or a command. The sky is blue. Do your homework. Girls wear dresses. Boys play with trucks. Stop pulling the cat’s tail. Don’t say bad words. (I heard that last one quite often myself!) And what do kids do? Ask why. Like, repeatedly. “Go to bed.” Why? “Because it’s past your bedtime.” Why? “Because I said so.” Why?
Moral to the story: We can’t always come up with a good enough reason to convince somebody that they can’t have what they want. Yet we so easily write off the things that we truly find ourselves desiring. Instead of asking why we CAN’T have or do something, we justify why we don’t even want to think about it in the first place. How many times have you just wanted to defy all logic and run-not-walk after something you thought might make you happy? What if you KNEW it would make you happy but you saw so many obstacles in your way? Did that deter you? Did you find about 10 justifications to not even let your mind “go there”?
But can you ever really close the door on something you wanted?
In short, does the answer always have to be “no”?
I guess what I’m saying is the thing I need to blog about most is the elephant sitting on the kitchen sink — I am trying very hard to not say it, not think it and not even have it dangling as a possibility. Mama taught me not to want things, so I wouldn’t be disappointed when they didn’t come. But I’d rather have my heart broken than to not even know if there’s anything inside of it.
But this is where I struggle. Sometimes, I have the patience of a saint. If good things come to those who wait, then damn it, I’m a-waitin’. There’s something thrilling about getting little jolts of electicity coursing through your body here and there — for lack of “big” things happening, a series of little inspirations and pleasant meanderings sure do wonders to keep a girl going until something, anything happens.
Other times, don’t even try going 75 mph in front of me on the highway when I want to go 82 — I will loudly inform you where to find your gas pedal and where you might find my foot if you don’t locate it in a timely manner. When my heart is set on something, it’s mine — everyone and everything else be damned. It’s rare that I need to have something “my way,” so when I’m hell-bent on having it, it’s not necessarily a request but, rather, a demand.
I think I’ve mastered the balance between the two mindsets, although it’s usually balancing one extreme with the next rather than exhibiting “just enough” patience, balanced with the “right amount” of aggressiveness. I am patient because it’s unladylike to go full velocity toward things I want when what I really want is for them to come to me. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t start willing them to happen the way I want, either — course of nature be damned.
Not to say that the course of nature isn’t happening as I type, speak, live and breathe. And maybe, the capital “NO” might soften a bit … maybe so far as to become an “OK.” Not now, but someday. Maybe I’m not all I can be and don’t have all that I would really like to have right now, and maybe everything seems ridiculously far out of reach. But I’ve got to keep believing that my “same-old, same-old” answer will become my “worth-the-wait, kept-the-faith” story that I can’t wait to tell again and again to inspire everyone like me who was ever brave enough to dream. …
On iTunes: Melissa Ferrick, “For Once in My Life”