I’m making myself try.
I’m sitting here, out in the world, deciding that I can be capabale of putting words on a page. I can be capable of finding something to talk about, something in me can untangle and I can keep trying to figure out the wisps of phrases in my brain.
A few weeks ago at church I kept having the image of kids in a pool spinning the water in circles. Making a whirpool and going as fast as they could to get the water to whip them around so fast. I remember doing that as a kid and it was always so fun. But, as I thought about it that day I was struck with the fact that the water was moving.
The water moves even in stillness.
The kids in the image in my head amped up the movement. The spinning of the water moved things around, brought things to the surface and shook things up.
But, even without the spinning the water moved.
I have felt, without a doubt, like still water lately.
I know that I’m still moving. I know that there is movement in the places that feel stuck. I know there is movement in the places where I feel right out of the water.
It’s just damn hard.
I’m a little petrified right now of the water getting spun around quickly. Because, I’ve felt like all that’s come up is the grit and the leaves and the lost pool toys long forgotten.
I’m a little bit scared because it always seems nothing good comes from the stirring.

I saw a therapist for about 3.5 years. I ebbed with how much I saw him but it was always at least twice a month and for some seasons every week. I was always so anxious heading into a session. It felt like I never knew what was going to come to the surface and I wasn’t ever fully prepared for it.
Things always stirred to the surface and it felt as if they were never pretty.
Because the things that settle on the bottom usually aren’t the good things.
I’m sitting here trying to scan my brain for any example, anything that gives me an example of something bringing good things to the surface when they are stirred.

I know that you stir things to keep them from burning, you stir them to mix flavors or to combine ingredients.
Staring at my computer though; I’m unwillingly to step into something that might stir the depths on my inside.

Have you ever known in your depths that you needed to leap, you needed to step outside of what was and you needed to let go of a little control?
Like, you just had to trust that there was something to catch you?
I don’t feel on the precipice of a big life change at least outwardly.
But I do feel like I have a death grip on the thing that’s trying to create a whirlpool inside of me and I’m just refusing to unclench my fist.

I believe we are in an interesting span of time. I think we’re just beginning to fully grasp the depths of ourselves and we’re beginning to grasp our abilities to see beyond who the world may sees us as.
We just have to choose to believe that we’re up to the challenge of figuring out all that we are.
We have to choose to unclench our fist and let the whirpool bring the good we don’t yet believe it can.

I’m afraid right now. I’m afraid of the straw that may break the camel’s back, I’m afraid of the other shoe dropping. I’m afraid of the wizard being found behind the curtain.

But, I’m also afraid if I don’t unclench my fist now I might never find my way back home to myself again.

So, I’m going to do some things that might cause stirring. I’m going to let people in to places I’ve forced to be still and I’m going to speak words that create movement.

That’s all. And everything.
With love,
Meg