Day 29: Acheron

Dear Acheron,

Thank you. 

I still can't over my good fortune in being offered the chance to buy you. I'd been without a car for almost a full year by the time David's offer came along and I still can't believe my luck. A Camry (even though you're not new) in good condition with good gas mileage, and you're all mine. 

You represent so much. The fact you are mine means there's always the chance for escape. Maybe that sounds a little crazy, but I need the promise of an open door to placate the dangerous edge in my heart. I must know I have the option to run. You give me that hope. 

Thank you. 

Love,

Jaymin

Soul Assassin

I am awake. This is not a good thing. In less than 6&1/2 hrs I need to wake up so I can walk to work. I am tired, but I'm still wired from running the kitchen tonight at work. I was told it went alright, and we did get everything done, but we were 15 minutes late leaving and I spilled a good portion of a mop bucket on the floor adding to our lateness. Sure that wasn't a lot, but considering I took one less than 15 minute break and didn't even have to make all 3 of my entrées ... I still don't feel great about running the kitchen. I don't cook again until next Friday, so maybe I'll forget how weird tonight was by then. 

Maybe I'm just not meant to be in charge. I really like being someone floating in the background. It just seems to be so much better for everyone when I'm not center stage. 

The funny thing about this is that Kim, the normal night cook, told me I need to be confident. That's what she wants for me in the job. For me to be confident. I realize she means that she wants me to feel certain in the job and feel good about what I'm doing, but I could really use real confidence. 

I just feel so ill at ease. Can I do this job? Can I remember all these different stations? Can I remember the dang pan sizes? Will I actually make enough? 

Can I do this?

I haven't felt confident in ages. I loved working in the Pharmacy because after they trained me I felt like I could always get whatever they needed done and I was fantastic at remembering everything. Before that I loved Kable. I was one of the fastest people they had on staff and they kept asking me to learn new little things so I could be more involved with the job. I miss feeling like I have bearings and am actually competent at my job. 

I guess I'm just looking for something to show me I'm where I'm needed so that I don't have to feel like I'm needlessly complicating everyone around me's jobs. Or just lives in general. 

I just want to be able to say: this is my place. This is my path. I belong here. This is right. 

I am not there yet. 

Full Speed Into the Dark

Favorite things of this very moment (3:16 PM EST):

• Unsweetened ice tea from The Millhouse (Angie is the best)
• Plans to head to Atlanta tomorrow afternoon to hang out with Shelby for the weekend
• Motor World (because Daddy got me completely hooked on this pointless game)
• Remembering that I have Oreos in my room from Calle (sweet)
• The possibility that Jordan and I will be heading to TN for a day to see Amber, Jake and Ellie at CWS and then spending the weekend with friends in Atlanta in a couple weeks

I need to move again.  I'm back to being antsy and unsettled and frustrated.  I need my own boundaries, privacy and a clean kitchen.  It's time to face everything I'm truly scared of at this point, and move out on my own.

For years now I've just figured my life would follow the path that seems pretty traditional in my family (and for many of my friends as well) where I would just go to school and live with family and/or friends until I found the right person and settled down.  At that point I'd expect to move out and deal with all the joy and wonder of normal rent/housing everything, but I'd also be facing it with the person I plan to face all my future challenges with.  This is not my life.

It's kind of hilarious when I start thinking about the fact that there has ever been a hope that my life would follow a traditional pattern.  Nothing I do seems to go by any cultural/social norms within my family or just the circles I am a part of.  I am, instead, a gypsy.  A nomad.  A wanderer.  Mind you, this is not strictly by choice in any traditional sense, but rather, I begin to get comfortable or use to a place, and I find myself being nudged onward.  Always onward.  Packing my bags, my life, my car back up and heading to the next place.

I don't regret the places and people I've been introduced to along the way.  I don't regret following God's leading to new places.  I don't regret any of that.  I've lived a life few can claim.  My locals haven't been exotic.  I haven't gone to new countries or had to learn new languages, but I've lived in different cities among different people in different states.  Each place is a new culture to learn with new stories and traditions, and in each place I have met people or grown relationships that have helped me to continue to grow into the woman I am trying to become.  I've learned new skills and learned about my shortcomings.  This life grows me and stretches the bounds of my heart.  It tests my trust in God, and it scares the living daylights out of me.

There is a longing in me that wishes I could've lived that other life.  Lived the life where I went to a secular college, become a psychologist or a librarian or taught literature or art history somewhere, found a normal guy, got married, had kids.  My folks were married with 2 kids at this point.  One of my brothers is married.  Most of my close friends are married with little ones.  If I'd have picked my life out of a stack, that would've been the life I chose.

But God knows better.

Lord knows I'm a wanderer by nature, and I love the travel.  I just really wish I could find home again.  Maybe moving out on my own after all these years will find my heart at rest, or maybe I'll just realize I'm beginning the next step onto a new path and into a new adventure. Whatever I'm facing, I'm holding onto God's goodness and praying that I'm discerning enough to see where He's leading and brave enough to follow.

Here I hold to Elizabeth Gilbert's words defining faith as "walking full speed into the dark." Here I go.

Everything

"You have a specific responsibility to existence, to God if you like, to taste, touch, and smell what there is to experience.  You have to do everything.  If given an option between doing something and not doing it, you have to do it; because you've already don the 'not do it' part. This can be juvenile and dangerous, I realize, and there are a lot of things I have chosen not to do, for a million reasons.  I was raised polite.  I've never hurt anyone, except guys I was sparring or fighting with.  And I don't take needless risks.  The idea is to make it through intact; 'safety' is my  middle name.  But I feel that you owe it to the world to be curious.  Somebody asked me if I was looking for something.  I am looking for everything."

That quote is from Sam Sheridan's brilliant book A Fighter's Heart which I am currently reading and a bit in love with. I read it, and I see something of myself reflected back up at me.  I spend a lot of time in the "not do it" department of life, and I think I miss many things.  This is not who I planned to be, nor is it where I intend to remain.  I choose each day to do something more to make something new.

I too am looking for everything.

How will I find it?

Not a Tree

A wonderful friend of mine sent me this picture this past week.  It made me laugh at the time, and it still does.  As much as I love and adore trees and all they do, I am glad I am not a tree.  I'm far, far too restless to be a tree.  

I love my life.  I love my hilarious, quirky, brilliant, insane, warm, thoughtful, talented family (including David's amazing Kelsey), and I really am dreading being far away from them.  At the same time, I know that who I am right now is not going to serve anyone at all.  I am becoming stagnant here.  If I were a tree, I would be flourishing, but sadly, I am not a tree.  Instead I'm a little more wild, a lot more quixotic, and, most important, I have legs.  It's time I learn to stand on them.

Today I have begun the arduous task of packing.  I realize that as I am moving two weeks from today that I probably should have been working on this long before, but I'm a procrastinator, especially when I'm frightened or overwhelmed.  As a result, I have been making some serious to-do lists.  I wrote one for myself this morning before church because I figured if I went ahead and made out a list I might be more inclined to accomplish something.  It seems to have worked because when I got home today I immediately started putting things away and pulled out the first box to fill.  As of this moment I have all but a few last books packed.  When I am finished typing this up I will start going through my cds and hopefully have all of them packed up within the next hour or so.  After that, I am not sure where I will head, but, with luck, my momentum will carry me through a couple more boxes and I will be much closer to be finished that I was when I woke up this morning.  

Today also began a line of plans to do some visiting with people.  I will be going to grab some Chinese with friends at my favorite Chinese restaurant in Freeport on Tuesday night, and might be hanging out with a friend on Thursday as well.  I'm sure there will be many more last minute visits over the next two weeks.  

So now I begin my deep breathing, continue with my constant prayer, say a lot of thank you's, accept well-wishes and blessings, and start walking.  God didn't make me to be a tree, so it's time to move on.

The Time Is Wrong

Bah.

The past two days have been super weird.  Nothing unusual happening in life itself, but I feel horribly off.  Maybe it is the grey skies or rain or just the fact that I feel cut off from everything.  It finally hit me that I was here.

I am here.

I am not at home in Atlanta, living with girls that might as well be my sisters, going to a school I love (no matter how screwy the people running it can be at times), babysitting my cousins, and loving my life.

Nope.  Instead I am at home in IL.

I am trying to make the most of this.  Honestly, I adore my family and the people here.  I love being here, buuut...it's the smaller bit of me now.  Unfortunately the bigger part of me is wishing like crazy that I was in Atlanta.

I hate feeling like this.  I hate feeling ungrateful and sad.  I hate that I am feeling an ache and avoid yawning inside me.  It is killing me.

So I work hard to find ways to make other people happy.  I have always found that if I work hard to make other people have better days...my days go better.

Today I made pies.  I made one for my family (blueberry, cranberry, pear, and cherry) and one for my church's AOP booth (just cherry).  I wanted to write some letters, but considering how frumpy and whiny I am, I didn't think anyone would want to read the letters I felt like writing.

Why am I letting myself be this way?

Again...bah.

But...to end on a cheerful note: a list.

Favorite things of this very moment (9:54 pm CST):

• Pie.  Delicious pie.  
• The younger cat always showing up when I put together my sandwich for tomorrow's lunch (she will someday sit on command)
• Clean clothes fresh out of the dryer
• "The Tick" cartoon show...ah the joys of my youth
• You.