And, Again

It's been a tough couple of months, maybe it's been a tough couple of years. I feel a little shell shocked, moving to another city, deciding to go back to school, and all the changes it has brought. The surprise on our loved-ones faces, the longing and missing them. 

There have been so many changes.

And, it's hard to snap back into writing, when I'm this tired and there's this many things to do, and a five year old little girl who is adjusting to everything too. 

And nothing is perfect in this new place, nothing is the dream, it's not the progress or the instagram picture, or the family of (at least) four I always thought we'd have. There's pain I carry around, I think we all do, but I want to learn how to open my hands and let the burden lift as I trust God, more and more and more, again. 

And ground myself in the storms, what is it that I'm supposed to hold onto? 

What story is being written in me? What way am I going? I hate all this change and I love it, excited but exhausted, alive, but dying to so many things too.

My world sounds like the swishing wind through trees, deep red roses, and sunshine streaming through the shadows of trees in summer. And it's all so fleeting, as if just as I'm reaching to be at peace, it might slip away again. 

And nothing is perfect, and nothing is perfect, and nothing is perfect  And every perception I want to display, every embarrassment, every achievement, every time friends and family peer at me closer, and I want to shrink away. 

Why?

Because (this is where the tears swell at the edges of my eyes), I have always wanted to be myself. I have always wanted choice, and we've made some big choices in our family, so that we might have more choice. 

And it's freaking scary, it's so scary to jump like this, and hope it's good in the end. And, every fear rests heavy on my chest until I feel like I can't breath, until I consider taking my prescription Xanax, just to calm my mind and body into a sense of safety that my self-talk can't accomplish alone. 

And again, and again, and again, I'll get lost in writing another story. Of reading another story. Of fixing up my story, and of asking others to help me and all of the things that terrify me, exhausted me, and I know I need rest, but I'm tired of resting. 

But rest, it's what I need before I run in the fall. 

And I smile now, and I cry now, because I see so many stories of perseverance. I see it in the shows I watch, in the books I read, and in the lives lived before. On instagram and in my friends, and I've waited so long, done so much, and I've ran before, but this time...

Grit, grit, grit, grit is courage, resolve, strength of character, and I want to settle into that kind of person. A good person. A sweet person. A loud person. A kind person. A patient person. A heroic person, a giving person, and story teller...

And that's who I'm going to be, that's who I'm going to be. That's who I'm going to be. That's who I'm going to be. That's who I'm going to be. That's who I'm going to be. That's who I'm going to be...

And I chant and chant and chant and manifest it, because I'm a type 5, and I need to be masterful at what it is that's in front of me, or I'm discouraged. 

But, I'm going back to school, and I'm masterful at standing again when I've been knocked down. So, knock me down, make me tired, and I'll rise again. And again, and I'll rise again. 

And, again. 

it's okay,

JJ