this time a year ago

A year ago. Wasn’t a good season for me. There were a handful of things going on. None of which were too terribly awful personally but I was struggling in lots of places. With questions. With relationships. With my job. With my dreams.  With not quite fitting. With trying to be more like the person I wanted to be but not quite sure who that was. And there were too many things going on to really process or fall apart or even be sad. I just got through.  We went to swimming lessons. I got coffee. I read lots of books. And found my tennis shoes and ran it out.

And a lot of has happened in a year. Sort of. I mean when I look back my life still ultimately looks the same. But I can still look back and see a turning point sometime around May.
I’m not sure what kind of turn or where I am headed. But a turn.
And occasionally I ran too fast down one direction. And have since backtracked a little.
But ultimately things have been different ever since.

And I think a lot of that happened on my friend Beth’s couch. Not all of it. But enough.
 Mostly because there was no room for bullshit on her couch.
And. because we were both kind of stuck there. Her under doctors orders. Me because it was somehow both the easiest and hardest place for me to be.

That season is over. Other people’s grief. Doubts and questions. Those aren’t things I really carry around anymore. Maybe I left them there.  And it is a good thing because that couch and it's owner  are well over a 1000 miles away.
And what I picked up was some of that honesty and a willingness to struggle outloud and not just on paper. And I can't tell you that there were too many moving deep experiences on that couch. Because there weren't. There were never any tears or outloud prayers.  But there was a lot of takeout and pjs and catching up on my TiVo. Intense conversations mixed in with pointless ones. Hopes and fears and favorite songs and bad words and playdo and even some laughter at a time where that didn't always come easy.  Questions about potty training, and faith and shoes and budgets. 
And I've been attempting those same kind of transparent conversations ever since. In many other places with a small handful of other people. And I won't say I didn't have them before. I did. But with walls and borders and fear. And they still don't come easy. But good things rarely do.

And so the turning point might be loving anyways. Even when it is hard and scary and probably at some point going to hurt.  And a reminder that somewhere inside me I still knew how to do that. With great resistance. But I still could. And I have been ever since.

(and apparently couches are a theme in my life because I've written about them before.
This same one here and another old couch of mine here. The actual photo above though....I stole from here.

1 comments:

Kristin said...

I love your honesty and am trying to find that more for myself these days but my personal blog isn't it. I am thinking of starting another one...public or not, but one without names and a place to be honest. We'll see if I actually get brave enough to do it...or find the time.