"Perfect" is the Scariest Word in the English Language

This week has been good, very good. It has been ever so slightly scary.

I have been watching the pieces come together, found answers and clarity. The cynic in me says it's too good to be true.

My father wrote me an e-mail today:

I have been praying for you a lot and sense God’s favor is resting on you right now. As you move out in faith, the Lord is going to give you the land your foot rests upon. I’m not sure what that all means, but He longs intensely for you and desires your attention. So, give heed to His voice whenever you sense it and ask Him where you are to step, so that His grace goes before you into the land. I think some things are breaking loose, so be ready for some positive changes and walk boldly into them. Faith is spelled R-I-S-K

I wonder if this means I should "risk" believing that it is possible. I wonder when believing in the good in life became so hard to do.

I know life is not perfect, so when it feels like it's getting too close, I pull myself back. I don't want to be disappointed. Not in people, not in life, not in God. I would say I take the coward's way out by just dismissing any desire I cannot acquire for myself. I think it is more of a survival technique than cowardice though.

It may be time for me to stop surviving and just live fearlessly. Love and dream and hope without inhibition. I'm learning. Aren't I always?

Today has been hard. Despite the beautiful life around me, my brother's struggles brought out an unexpected rage in me. The anger made me start questioning all the good, believing the easier version of the truth where everything falls apart.

Thing is, nothing is made to last forever and that's okay. Things could be beautiful forever without them being the same. I think if they did stay the same, they would lose their wonder.

Yes. I am going to try to believe that life can be perfectly, divinely beautiful. I am going to try to believe that God is willing to give that to me. By now I should know that he gives me gifts I could not have imagined for myself. I once read that desire and longing are the lifeblood of the soul. I want to live, even if it hurts sometimes. Life is too long to hold onto pain and too short not to risk it.

Hearts heal, regrets last forever: here goes nothing!

Getting my Life Back and the Sad Little Face

Surprisingly D has only been home for 3 weeks. Knowing that makes me feel less terrible about the fact that I am only just starting to feel my life coming back together. I carved-out a rather nice life for myself while he was away, and for the first time I am feeling like he can fit into it.

The great weekend we had, the time together and the time apart, felt normal. I am excited about my weeks again and filling my weeks with adventures. This week I am taking him to a Bar game show night, possibly to the Free MoMa Friday and then possibly curling-up and relaxing on Saturday. Sunday I have an EWI dinner in Flushing, next Monday I am having dinner with a girlfriend and an editor from Savour, I have Beard on Books next week, the Brooklyn Kitchen book club and a bread baking class next month, whew! I'm baaaack.

I feel like I am me again, with him. Don't get me wrong, I curse him every time I put away laundry and his pile is bigger than mine, but it is nice to have someone to run around the city with.

It was a hard week last week. Not only with work, but with my family. My brother's struggles absolutely break my heart, and my mother's agony over it and her father makes me cringe. It is more of a heavy frown on my face and heart than an active pain. It feels heavy and sad, but I can't feel anymore than that, there are no tears, no fits of anger, just the heavy face. Just the reality of the sadness of the situation looking at me from inside. I wish I could cry or something, but I can't, it is content to just sit there and be. Nothing I can do to help, nothing I can do to fix, nothing I can do to protect. Just a sad face staring out at a sad, hurting family that it cannot touch.

That is my little family. The one being tossed side to side in a storm. I suppose I feel guilty for not being in the dangerous boat with them. It makes me sad, but I cannot feel anything. My mother's tears for her Daddy and her son, My brother's retreat and deep, deep sorrow. These are the two people I love most dearly in the world. These are the two my life would be destroyed without, so why do I feel nothing? Why is there just a heavy sad face looking out at their struggles? I suppose I will figure it out eventually.

I don't know, but at least I feel like I am wrapping my arms back around my own life, embracing my sad little face, and my joyful adventure seeking, and my bi-polar work weeks. All I can do for now is hold-on tight and try to enjoy the ride.