What an interesting little phase in which I've currently found myself. I haven't written in quite a while. Writing takes time. Sometimes it only takes the time to jot down a recipe and a story. Others it takes the time to do a lot of introspection and understanding and settling. Goo.
Change scares me. I love going to new places without a plan. I love days that are unscheduled and full of opportunities. I hate when patterns of life shift. Those are not spontaneous adventures, they are scary situations to me. I don't like them but they are growing me. Ugh, the growth.
I've been hearing a lot over the past few weeks and months about simplifying, slowing down, making room. I wanted to take this year before school to read the books I've been meaning to for years and hike cool places on weeknights and have dinner parties. I wanted to slow down and spend time. I didn't know the process would be exhausting.
I have had a pretty packed schedule for the past seven years. Truly. It gives me energy and makes me feel vibrant and needed. It feeds an appetite to feel important by being busy. But I'm learning and hearing over and over again that being busy does not equal being important. And my not being busy is terrifying. It has ripped away a comfort blanket that has kept me warm and cozy for a very long time. It is transforming an identity and a source of value I had previously been unaware of and more recently been unwilling to deal with.
The void that appointments and obligations and classes used to fill can feel gaping and raw. Invitations that I used to (and sometimes loved to) turn down because I was already busy are no longer a problem. I have friends, I do things, I am realizing now more than ever that I have been given more true friends and loving family than any one person could ever deserve, but the process of learning how not to let those relationships and patterns define my life is just that, a process. I'm not there. And the getting there part really sucks. It is confusing. People are changing, I'm changing, situations are changing, and the changes don't all line up. What I want right now and what I've been praying for over the last year are two completely different things. I want to be independent, to be content spending my time in ways I find valuable, to love and flourish in a life that looks completely different from anyone else's, to find purpose and direction and worth in something more than cheap thrills and empty relationships, and that is what I'm getting. But I want to be busy because everyone ever wants to be my friend, to spend my time doing glamorous things that everyone is jealous of, and to be invited by everyone to everything and be bombarded by snap chats and texts and emojis that express everyone's agony if I'm unable to grace them with my presence (don't act like you haven't wanted that). That's not what I'm getting. And it's good. And it's tough.
That is how I feel at my most awful, when I'm exhausted by searching and asking and learning and I just want to be comfy. And I have plenty of comfy people. I have, and I'm sorry if you disagree, but I really do have the best support system. Ever. In the world. I am loved and cared for and so overly protected it's humorous. So why do I feel like I need more? That's the place where I'm growing. And that's a painful place to grow. But God is a good, good god.
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