New Country

As I stand at the edge of the fuzzy terrain that is to be my life for the next few months (to indefinite land and beyond!), I have to confess that I feel rather bewildered.
All excitement has leaked out of my bones and I am now just hunkered down with my doubts and agonies for company (standard Melancholic baggage), wondering what the hell I am doing!

 

I am told that emotions like doubt, loneliness, abandonment and grief are fairly standard companions on the long trek to dream accomplishment (as a sense of security and assurance hightails it, double-time, in the opposite direction) but where is the great bravado that I thought would initially bolster me along, step by step?  Where the glitter and gold and that sense of achievement-not-yet-tasted-or-defined to applaud me on my way?  Instead I feel the need to reach for a tall, stiff drink…

 

I found this truth in the pages of a novel the other day – life is a series of events that you ultimately face alone.  Even if someone chooses to walk alongside you on the path for a bit, you cannot escape the reality that it will be your fears and concerns that you carry and do battle with and no human can lug that load for you.

 

It is evident that reaching maturity, or the act of growing up, is why people’s skin gets leathery and their teeth stained– they have faced many of life’s weathering seasons and they have bitten off and chewed reality by the mouthful.  It can only leave them changed.

 

I do not feel positive.  The world economy does not make me feel positive.  But I have to trust my God.  Three years ago, He popped a sentence neatly into my brain as I was driving around town, blubbering like an idiot over a recent breakup.  I felt a failure.  I felt like a great Reject candidate.  We Melancholics don’t do grief at half steam, I was getting good existential mileage out of this one.  As I turned a corner God said to me, ‘Jean, I will not let you build your life on another man’s dreams.’ This was a sobering revelation to me as I had no dreams of my own.   It was an empowering one because it meant I should.  And being able to mentally shout at The Ex, ‘Scroof you buddy, I’m not supposed to build my life on yours anyway!’ well that felt pretty good too.

 

It is three years (and quite a few heartbreaking relationships on) and God’s statement still stands.  He wants me on my own two feet.  I would prefer to cling.  He wants me to realize those things I have capacity for.  I want security.  It is not fair dammit!  It really isn’t.  But it cannot really be changed at this point in time, so I am gearing up to enter above mentioned, fuzzy terrain and do it anyway.  It is clear I have to…