Words On A Page

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This week I’m going to try something a little different. I’ve been promising that there were a couple of projects coming. This is the first part of one of those projects. After looking through some feedback, some of the people on here feel that some of my best writing comes from some of the rawest and most unedited forms. As such I’m going to share a few different writings over the next couple of weeks that come from a variety of journals, notes, and other such collections. Most of these are not necessarily current writings, and so before you begin to worry about my sanity or safety please consider that I am choosing to share these words with you. Most of those selected I believe speak to more than just my own feelings or experiences. If so I invite you to raise questions and have conversations, that is entirely the point of my sharing them. If these don’t provoke questions, emotions, or actions I might start to question your sanity or safety, just kidding. But I honestly feel called to share these and have no real purpose other than to let the words and stories speak for themselves. So without further ado here are 2 passages:

The first:

Why can’t I just let go? Why do I feel the need to be in control? It’s not like I’ve done a great job trying to do things my way. I’m just lucky to have enough people to pick me up when I fall down. Yet I keep holding on. I know there is more, I want more, and yet I cling to this shallow life. I try to hold on for perfect, I try to make my own plans and decisions, yet constantly find myself ultimately further behind. I feel called at times, or shown glimpses of what might be. Yet I resist, not because I fear this calling, but my comfort has made me lazy. Where once I charged ahead unafraid, I’ve grown cautious. Not for fear of pain or being unpopular, but fear of disappointment when I get there. Instead of a desire to help, rather there is just a longing to be helped first. This life holds nothing for me. It’s hallow, it is empty, it is broken, and it is wrong. I don’t want it anymore. Take it, break it if you must, but build in me what I’ve only glimpsed of, but long for with all of me. Open me up to see all that you have done. Fill me with a love so deep that it overflows, and give me the strength to give it all away.

And the second:

It sometimes occurs to me that I’m not like other people. I have things in common with lots of people, but I’m not really like most. I can always seem to blend in to groups but I don’t ever truly feel like I belong. After all by being me I’m normally not like most people. I don’t really know how to describe it other than it feels like I understand people easily, but in knowing how to act it becomes just that, an act. It seems that while one of my greatest gifts is to empathize and understand others when I want to, I’ve actually lost the ability to truly understand myself. I understand how to do lots of things so lots of people think I’m this or that, but often I’m usually not challenged, mastering, or loving anything that I’m doing. It could just be that I know what it takes to be extraordinary and have faced challenges with addiction and burnout, or simply that I just don’t want to put in the work. It could also just be a lack of true inner passion. I’m not really sure what it is that is holding me back from unlocking some inner fire or passion for life. I just hope that at some point I can find that, or myself, or the place where I can just be me.

Again, I don’t really know what sort of reaction or expectation to have. I just feel called to share, so share I am. If you would like to talk about this, I’m very open. As a quick reminder, some of these feelings may or may not be how I feel currently, so take that as you will.

 

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