As your day ends, are you left feeling complacent rather than motivated? You could remain this way, even keel, for a long, long time. But…this nagging desire to keep trying, to keep moving just won’t stop. Like a seedling reaching outside its shell and breaking through the topsoil, you keep yearning to grow outside the darkness into the light. Why is that?
It starts with feeling “blah”
Staring at the computer screen, visualizing an idea that remains outside my grasp, my own mediocracy confounds me.
My brain feels like mush, and while I could allocate that to the lack of caffeine early this morning, I confess that activities done by me recently have not received my 100%. Instead, I find myself pushing forward because I must, because sitting still and doing nothing is not part of my vocabulary.
And while I may grapple with my current mediocracy, and my brain does really feel like mush, I need to recognize that I am in an internal battle – with myself. I’m not sure what I’m battling against or for. If myself, then what parts of me are not aligning? If I am fighting for something, what is that “something” and why is it outside of my grasp and understanding? What does a saved soul, in eternal heaven, look like, feel like, and do anyways?
This decade-long, self-imposed, internal battle has flurried and picked up speed within the last 4 years. Internally the battle rattles on, between what I want to do, if I even know what that is, and what God would like me to do, and I don’t even know what that is, fully, yet externally I keep standing still. It’s a conscious choice, a choice made from previous acts of running out of things excessively many times, a choice due to an obligation to playing adult and dealing with my problems.
While this internal battle, this push-and-pull between wanting to become my best self and just being tired of trying, today, specifically, felt blah. The scary thing is that today is not the only day. Way too many days feel blah – and if I look at everything honestly, I can say that the past year has felt blah.
Put that sentiment on top of another comment I’ve made – about now that I’m getting older, wasting hours in purpose-less meetings just doesn’t jive with living life to the fullest – and, well, a year of wasted time that is like speaking blasphemy. This blandness needs to stop, doesn’t it?
The beginnings of a migraine start as I drive home. I wonder if I should to pull over and get a Snickers bar (the commercials are running in my head, and yes, I get cranky, depressed, and even a bit hostile when I’m hungry). I don’t stop and still arrive home safely, in good time, and spend time physically moving. I water the newly planted fall vegetables and I’m happy to see some seeds already beginning to sprout, if only after 3 days of planting (yippee).
I scrape sap off the car windows. Back inside, I’m defeated by the sap remaining on my hands – no amount of soap can get that stuff off.
I grab a left over cup of morning coffee and my e-reader and head towards the back deck. Surrounded by the redwoods and summer grown grape leaves, I read a mystery. I find comfort in the well-written characters, and in their competency (has there been a novel written about an incompetent cop or detective…I guess it wouldn’t make a good mystery novel if there was).
The physical movement, the breathing of fresh air, it does me good.
I’m emboldened to start to feel outside of my funk, emboldened enough to think about opening up the laptop and typing up a story that demonstrates the thoughts going on inside my head. If I reflect and type and string words strategically together, I can write about how a day can turn from feeling blah to feeling almost like those new seeds sprouting through the ground: a start, a desire pushing to grow, no longer in the deeps of the earth beyond the reaches of the sun, but something, a living entity that after receiving water, nutrients, broke out of a protective shell and begun to push outwards, and lo and behold broke through the top layer of dirt and felt the sun.
I’m emboldened enough to get to the laptop and get stuck within the mindless chatter of the web. Yet I’ve made it this far, and holding on to the remnants of the joy of seeing the seedlings, I pull out my journal and just scribble, start with “jumble and pops” and wait for actual words to come out.
Words do come, nothing too revealing, nothing to deep, bordering along the grayness of just feeling like empty space in an empty world. I look at empty space next to the words, sketch a standing woman, and pull out my pastel pencils. I apply colors to the face and play, seeing what mixes and doesn’t what will be recreated and reshaped. Within the colors, within the exploration, I find strings of hope, something that keeps calling me forward.
…There is faith.
I am remembering the first 12 verses of 1 Peter – and in particular the word “strangers.” Looking back at the sketch and my attempts to color it, that is how I feel: strange, outside the parameters of normalcy. Being talented enough to know that something is there but not different or natural enough to break through and be something. Just hanging there, out on a limb, neither being able to go backwards to a regular life or being able to have the gusto or strength or mindset or talent to go forward.
It’s this being in between that sucks. (And as I write and reread this phrase, it dawns on me that it is not only this in between being okay and great that bites, but this being in between earth and heaven – knowing what awaits and knowing that I cannot go there yet. Double shucks!)
But going back to those first 12 verses of 1 Peter. A stranger – because I have stepped outside of my average life but aren’t 100% comfortable with my new living hope birth, don’t know all the rules, and this obedience and submission thing is driving me crazy. A stranger because what happens in this world is upside down from what happens in heaven, and I need to remember that and place my faith in the reality of another place, another world, another citizenship.
I continue to look at the sketch and let my mind continue to purposefully wonder and ponder. I think a bit further along the lines that perhaps this is the right place to be right now: in the middle, knowing that without God I will never make it beyond this point, and that only with His guidance and strength will I be able to move to be anything else. And gosh darn it, I have to be okay with not knowing what that something else is.
I do know that without practice, without intent, without trying things out, over and over, I definitely will not move from where I am right now. (Remember learning how to walk? You didn’t just snap your fingers and it happened – you had to get your tiny, chubby little legs under your heavily diaper padded toosh and move it along, and wobble and be unstable, but do it.)
I plead and pray to God to help me out, because I’m stuck here in the middle, and today, in this day that feels blah, I don’t want to be in this middle, ‘cause I’m tired of feeling miserable, of not doing anything, of doing something to just keep floating around because I’m trying to be grown up and wanting to keep floating.
The plead goes out and as I’m laying my head down on my desk, looking over the pastel colored sketch of a woman, a ding goes off near my ear, signaling a new email message. I look up and see a survey result, a result to a survey that I posted for email subscribers.
In the survey, I asked about reasons that prevented readers from purposefully making mistakes. The survey result flashing on the screen: “Knowing the right answer and having difficulties implementing it.”
God really should book a stretch at the Apollo – His sense of humor is as grand as His love and grace and mercy.
Yeah, I know the right answer, the right decision, and I’m sure as heck having a hard time implementing it.
So is it better to feel stuck and blah…or…feel uncertain in movement and tired due to the growth stretching that I’m doing? To choose to live a life of complacency that is boring and draining OR living a life of learning and days filled with bone-tired adventures?
I guess I better keep praying, purchase the Snickers bar, and stretch my hands and heart out towards the light. I’m sure I’ll be a little sore at first, but I’m looking forward to that nice muscle definition.
What keeps you going, moving forward, stretching towards becoming your true best self? Share in the comments below – never know when sharing your truth may help someone else kick the dirt off their jeans and start walking forward again.
Photo Source: https://stocksnap.io/
I love reflecting on purposeful, thought-provoking life experiences and turning them into life purposes. I am a writer dedicated to sharing life-lessons to empower women to attain their best life by turning experiences into passion-driven action.
When I'm not studying life, I'm intentionally living it. I enjoy art (admiring it and creating it), nature, and I'm a beginner sewer in the attempt to sew my own unique clothes.
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