The past nearly five months have been full of down time, sadness, quiet introspection, silence, loneliness, and books. There have, of course, been joyous moments, but tonight the quiet is creeping in, and I feel the need to settle in to it. The more I run from it, the more it comes back to haunt me anyway, so I'm going to give the beast a few words and hope it sloughs away for a while.
Friends I love have cancer. Women I love don't know they are worth more than the relationships they stay in. The man I love is beyond my reach in many ways. People I love have moved away. Students I believe in have dropped out. Decisions I've made regarding my financial future have blown up in my face. And let's not mention the lack of fitness this frame of mine exhibits.
In the immortal words of a positivity guide I saw on Etsy: shit's fucked.
I cannot think of a worse stretch of years. I understand that being a human is hard, that life isn't meant to be sunshine and roses, that you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life. The facts of life. I get it. I just can't help but wonder when the good will come back around.
My job is as fulfilling as it is heartbreaking most days, but the crush of work has been nearly unbearable lately, and most of my students have no interest in learning anything. The majority of them want to show up, do the bare minimum, and be handed an A on a silver platter. When I suggest they work, read, learn, they scoff and tell me none of their other teachers cares this much, so what is my problem. Indeed. What IS my problem?
I guess my problem is that I want the world to be good. I want the people I care for to be happy. I want the minds I encounter to be open and ready for new information. I want to see goodness in the world and to feel a deep sense of gratitude for my part in a universe that allows me to love this much. My problem is that I care more than nearly every one I know about almost everything.
And so at night, surrounded by books that serve as my most frequent companions these days, I am discovering a troubling truth about myself. I don't mind solace in the least, but I am not made for so much isolation. I need to share my life, my heart, my need to care. I need that, and yet I cannot seem to find a way to do it that doesn't potentially break my heart. And there it is, the fact we all want to avoid: vulnerability is the only real road to intimacy and connection, but being vulnerable can terrify us away from the very relationships that yield said intimacy and connection.
Tonight I say a prayer for all of us waiting on the sun, trying to believe in a tomorrow brighter than today, offering our open hands towards the sky that they may be filled with so much hope and promise.
I feel the same way. I've always been an introvert, and part-time work filled any social needs I had. Learning to work alone, from home, has been such an eye-opener for me (a game changer too, while I'm on cliches).
ReplyDeleteI'm married, and I love my husband dearly, but we have so much WORK to collaborate on, just for survival, that we rarely get to relax and enjoy one another's company (he works full time as a teacher; I'm trying to open a business while working days at one job and evenings at another).
We both miss having friends. I think because friends signal that it's time to sit down, relax, and enjoy life. It's too easy for us to spend any time together making lists! And subsequently feeling more pressure to perform, perform, perform. It's exhausting. We both retreat to escape too--books and reading for me; games for him.
We want the world to be good too. I hope we all find places where it is.