i firmly believe the most difficult things we deal with in life are the things no one else sees. the things that go unmentioned each day but come vividly to life at night in that haze between reality and sleep, where most of our prayers are whispered timidly, shamefacedly. the things hidden in plain view, the sarcastic responses that touch us more deeply than any song or love letter could. the little notes we leave for our eyes, and our eyes only- a swear word scrawled across a hipbone, a tender spot on the tip of a tongue where teeth have sunk through to prevent dangerous words from slipping out, the irritated red stripes on the inside of an arm declaring our anger to ourselves. that inevitable moment where we realize the extent of our love and the amount of strength that will be required in letting go, and learning how to accept the fact that, despite our most sincere efforts, some people will just never understand what they mean.
it’s time to change. i know that. but i’m scared stiff. i don’t like change. change isn’t bad, but it’s not safe. i know that there are going to be changes out of my control, and that they might require the one thing i hate more than anything- leaving. saying so long, and thanks for all the fish. turning around and walking away, knowing you’re leaving part of yourself behind when you go and being okay with it. new beginnings are lovely, yes. but let’s just face it, they hurt. i’m excited at the chance to find a place in my life where i could start over, and, yes, get away from some of the mistakes i’ve made. it’s like being lucy listening to mr tumnus’ song- you want to dance and sleep and laugh and cry, maybe all at the same time.
i’ll go where i’m being led, but right now, i don’t know where that is.
trust. it’s something i’ve learned, and something i’ve stopped practicing too often after misplacing it too many times. but it’s time to start re-learning. i was not named faith for nothing.
i say what i say with no hesitation
i have what i have and i’m giving it up
i do what i do with deep conviction
something on the road, cut me to the soul
Sara Groves, I Saw What I Saw