So I’m working on a profound revelation right now. It’s percolating in my brain like tea (does tea percolate?) and as much as I hate the smell of brewing tea (and that’s a lot) I’m glad. Every time I try to write about it (because external processor) it comes out as total gibberish. So I’m letting it stay in my brain, but I still want to say something.
I’m walking differently at the moment.
My mother, whose profession is gait analysis, pointed it out. She said I’m walking like someone has just taken something heavy off my shoulders. Her explanation was anatomy being over, but I’m not convinced that’s it.
There are books on my bookshelf, finally. They’d been sitting in the box I packed them in since I left Waco. I’ve added a bunch this summer. The thought occurs to me that I’m reading like a grown up now. I didn’t before.
I played in a dodgeball tournament with my brother, his college roommate, their wives, and Lauren and Nate (#seventhwheel). And for the weirdest collection of people maybe ever, it was fun.
The red chair from Waco apartment found its way into my apartment here. You guys remember, maybe, how very attached I was to that chair. It feels like MC and Sunday naps and ICM emails and nail polish. It doesn’t make me sad, somehow.
There are children in my life. The same ones every week. We stay late on Thursdays, and it seems like ICM. Only it’s somehow more in line with the way I’m wired.
I’m sleeping again. I wasn’t for a while. I was channel surfing for Friends reruns until like two or three in the morning and stumbling out of bed at six like a train hit me.
And I’m happy. I’m singing loudly all day long and being snarky in a nice way and high fiving people and praying in the rambly, out loud way that everyone in Phi Lamb used to laugh at.
So I’m walking different. Maybe it’s confidence. That I feel like I belong here. I’m not looking around trying to impress people.
I’ve said before that I was doing better, and the midsummer meltdown did delay my progress a bit. But before when I said better I meant…like not crying and able to function. What I mean now is that I like my life here.
It was a hard summer. I know you know that. But I look around and I see how everything in my life was always leading up to this. The pieces fit. And I’m happy. I prayed for contentment, I prayed for joy, I prayed for hope. God let me have happy. I didn’t expect that, and I certainly didn’t earn it. I haven’t even been trying all that hard to be happy.
Sometimes grace is waking up and realizing you legitimately think that morning is a good thing.
It’s been awhile.