May 27, 2012 § Leave a comment
The sea. it calls me.
Gentle breeze and coconut smelling suntan lotion mixed with sand in my fingers.
The sound of water football and frisbees flying overhead while sleeping beneath the afternoon warm; sun beating on my back and bugs crawling on my legs.
Drifting in and out of consciousness with the sounds of the waves.
The sun setting slowly over little waves, going. going. An orange orb throwing pink and yellow and pale purples into the sky.
The light fading, going. going.
Normal people turning into shadows, their shapes illuminated in street lights, just beginning to turn on.
Shouts of children screaming into the water one last time before heading home to take baths and read books before floating into sleep, just a little burnt and eyelids heavy with sandy dreams.
The sea. In the morning.
Light dawning, coming. coming. Gentle lapping onto the shore, no one there to disturb the sound, all safely in their beds at home awaiting noon and the coming of heat.
Shapes, docks and lighthouses and early morning boats all coming slowly into picture, with birds calling to each other in the air. They land in flocks, and run away when I come to join them.
I wish I could join them.
They fly away and go so far. I am limited by my person sized legs and no wings and slow pace.
Sometimes I think I could run to the end of the pier and take flight, but realize the water is too cold to fail.
So I stop.
The sea. In the fall with the wind tossing sand into my hair, kites flying above.
Storms come and whip the waves into peaks of anger, loud and violent. Safe on the beach, with my kite flying furiously, I pull my coat closer and close my eyes.
The water smells like pure.
It makes me think of apples and yellow leaves, and cinnamon tea. I love it now.
In the winter the snow forms peaks over long forgotten footprints, and the water freezes into piles of cold. The few and brave traverse the peaks and slide down on their snow pant bottoms, then hurry back to drink hot chocolate and coffee in the warmth of soft light.
It is cold, the sea. Birds that are brave still fly, somewhere. I don’t go to the end of the pier anymore, but seated on the sand with the frigid wind in my face, I feel like I should. Especially after christmas, when there seems to be no reason for it, this coldness.
Cleanup crews dig out the rubble, in March. The sea is coming to life.
Dig, dig. Coming. Coming. A few come. On the days when the sun chooses to beat, more show up and some even jump in the sea, screaming, letting it numb their toes.
I just walk close by. It seems like it’s still hibernating, like it needs a little more time to come awake. So do I, I think.
The sea. Always the sea. The soft, gentle caress, the loud angry roars, the soothing lap of waves. This is the sea. And it is mine. I want to shout that to the people who throw sand on my towel, who yell and crowd and drink their beer. This is sea is mine. I love it, it is mine.
May 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
I think, today, it’s a time to be brave. I have a job interview. Friday. 4:15pm. Right after my last day of clinical at my current site. I am a bundle of shaky nerves; I was jumpy and distracted and overwhelmed today to say the least. At my worst. At my best I can control myself with positive thoughts and bible verses. I printed out this quote yesterday by someone that said something to the effect of (paraphrasing) “stress is best controlled when we are able to change our thoughts” so that’s what I’ve worked on today. That and a good jog this morning to clear my head.
Which is so full. Job and clinical and cleaning my house, plus keeping in shape and studying for boards. This has all sapped my energy. Which makes me feel weak, because I know there are people out there who go to med school, have a family, and keep a side job as well as volunteer in the community and help the homeless. And I struggle just to drag myself out of bed to put in an hour of study before work. But struggle I do.
I know life is a process; I know it’s good for me to do things I don’t want to do, and I also know that things are worse in my head (usually) than they are in real life. And everything is overwhelming when you’re tired. So I don’t know, maybe I just need a good night’s sleep and some good coffee in the morning. But tonight, right now, I’m…tired.
Do I want this job? Probably. Would it be the end of the world if I failed this interview miserably, cried on my way out the door, and didn’t get it? Nope. There are other jobs, other interviews, other opportunities. But this is my 1st. It’s starting. And from here on out it will get easier. But for the next 2.5 days, I’ll be nervous and scared and trying so hard to muster up confidence that I really don’t feel.
Where does confidence come from? I’ve always wanted it. I’ve met many women who have a confidence, not the in-your-face brashness that comes from being overbearing and self-absorbed. But more, the quiet, sweet spirit that demonstrates contentedness in life and with themselves. Where is that confidence, and where do I find it? I think that’s one of my great life questions. I question a lot of what I do, because of lack of confidence.
Should I have said that? Should I have done that? Should I do this? Should I go do that? Do they think I’m smart? Do they think I’m done? What should I do now?
All the questions in my head. Life is difficult when you constantly ask questions that only you can answer. I covet, which I know is probably a sin but so be it, I covet confidence.I fake it. And maybe that’s all it takes. Just faking it until you get there. But it’s hard to continue to fake something when you know you’re a fraud; when you know it’s not really there, it gets fatiguing to the soul.
I want to own my life. I’ve been reading a book by Kelle Hampton called “Bloom”. It’s fantastic. And she talks in this book a lot about rocking your life. Of taking what you’ve been given and using it in a fabulous way. And she’s right. I want to follow my heart. I want to make a difference. I want to be bold and confident and go in the direction of my dreams. I am what I am. Let’s do this. But those are just words to me right now. My spirit is tired. Tonight, I don’t want to be brave, I want to run away. Which is exactly the opposite of brave: “coward”.
Tonight I feel like a coward. Positive thinking barely makes a dent, and my thoughts just run wild, and I’m so weary of worry.
Weary and worry. They go hand in hand, like two friends no-one wants to invite over, but end up sitting down and resting their feet on your coffee table and staying for drinks, because you’re too scared to kick them out. Get out, is what my head says. Get out and close the door on your way.
Because, damn it, I want to be there. I want to own it. I want to rock my fabulous life and be courageous while doing it. And all I hear in my head as I type this is “I look to the hills, from whence cometh my help”. And I’m reminded again of the verses I’ve repeated today. That soothe my soul like a calming balm. Joshua 1: 5-9- “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous!”. Philipians 4:6-7 “Do not be anxious about ANYTHING.” Isaiah 43- “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”
And in reminding myself of these, I think I’ve answer my question. Where does confidence come from? Confidence comes from God. I am strong and courageous, because he is with me. He commanded me. He is there. Positive thinking is good. Prayerful thinking is better. I am weary, but “his yoke is easy, his burden is light.” I am worried but “Do not worry”. Today was hard. Tomorrow may be difficult. But I will try again, and hold myself with a confidence of knowing that God is with me.