As I move through this week, organizing and packing and preparing, I find myself noticing things that won't be part of my day-to-day life for quite some time. I have dinner with a precious friend and realize that I truly don't know when I will see her again. I choose how I spend my time carefully, knowing that soon, the things in this town that I take for granted will be on the other side of the world for a year. It's not as if I've never moved before, but there's something about being on a different continent, disconnected from literally everyone I know and everything I am accustomed to that is striking. It's like that feeling you get when you're really nervous and are suddenly too aware of where in your mouth your tongue sits naturally...but I'm feeling that way with my whole self. Not just my body, my self.
Someone asked me once what it is that makes me experience God the most, and I told him that it was feeling small. There are kaolin mines near here, and one in particular that my close friends and I enjoy frequenting. The best part, for me, is climbing to the top and standing at the edge, overlooking the clear blue pools that have formed and the surrounding trees that have yet to be chopped down for developments. It isn't just the spectacular view that I love so much, though; it's the feeling I get when I stand there - that the world is a vast place and I possess the unbearable lightness of being. I'm a speck and that just sort of takes my breath away.
This week is hard in a joyful way. I'm saying goodbye to familiarity and all its comforts and stepping forward into the empty space that the world usually occupies for me to watch, complacently, from a distance. But saying goodbye is important, because it allows us to greet something (someone) else. It allows us an endless supply of new hello's, and oh, what a wonderful flavor that is.
Here's to all the goodbye's I'm saying this week, and to all the hello's I'll use in the weeks to come.
Hey, Grace -
ReplyDeleteBack in the Dark Ages (you know, before you were born LOL), I thought that I had learned that "the only way out is through" and the only way through really meant doing something that felt *really* risky (at least I believed that then & told myself it was true) - so when you speak of doing something terrifying as a way to come alive, you're definitely on the right track (I no longer just "believe" this, I know it, having experienced it too many times to ever doubt again; and provided that "coming alive" includes growing). Because you WILL grow - in more ways than you can even imagine now. And there will be people, events, and "things" along the way to help that process, like it or not ! I commend you for your courage, and look forward to hearing about the road you're going to travel. And when you come out on the other side of this phase of your life's adventure, before stepping into the next one, you'll look back and think "I never, in my wildest dreams, could have imagined THAT ! - and it really was all for the best." So I came out from Georgia to the "Land of Breakfast Cereal" - and it's been a roller coaster all the way (learn to hang on & enjoy it; getting off is NOT the thing to do, even when it feels like it's the ONLY thing to do for your survival !). I've grown in many facets of my life, realized that there's always more growth on the way if I'm willing to step into it, learned technologies in my work I'd never dreamed of, made strange & wonderful friends, and now, finally, have discovered the purpose(s) for my life. It's been a long while for that, but Life is finally beginning to make sense - and it will for you, whether at the end of the first month, the year, or later, if you keep pressing into the things that help you grow. Know, dear grand-daughter, deep in your heart & soul, that you are Loved, that you Matter, that there is a Purpose for your life, and that however it may appear, God's in control ! It's really, I now believe, all about trust - and remembering to keep breathing, deeply..
Love & blessings to you on your way -
Grandpa