Sunday, April 29, 2018
Retreat reflections.
I stumble into my bedroom, bags heavy in my hands, hardly making it to the bed, I plop down exhausted. Must make the bed, unpack... then set back up the computer, oh yeah... everything from the floor is all over the place. I should never have left. This is just simply more than I can handle. My mind begins a slow gradual downspin of every negative moment over the past few days.
It is at this moment I see Oth... His great arms are crossed over his chest as he looks down on me with amusement and a hint of forbearance.
Oth is a guardian, large, pushing nine foot I would say wingtip to wingtip... which he has four of, I'd say much greater.
I freeze before simply flopping on the bed. I don't want to write, I don't want to talk, and we both know it.
"I go to an event to help energize me to write... and I just feel worse." I bemone to him.
He lets out a great sigh before sitting, shaking his head in amusement at my little ol' self. I know the look, it's the same one I give my sister when she's melted all over Walmart's floor after a day of shopping complaining about some little nitpick little thing that just happened to tip her over the edge of her proverbial wall.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" he sits in the old rickety chair beside me. I always wonder why it doesn't break when he decides to set up camp there... but it never does. Now he glares at me for thinking such things.
"Yeah," I say simply
"Would you do it again."
"In a heartbeat," I reply... "But not tonight."
He smiles, his hand brushing the side of my face with gentle comfort. The love and devotion in his eyes are soothing. I let out a great sigh, a yawn, then another sigh.
"I... had fun. Much more than I expected since I knew nobody and was going to a writer's event..."
He glares at me with a shake of his head. "Did you learn nothing-"
"I... I learned..." I replied yawning again.
He smiled with another nod. his wing slips around my shoulders. "You took a lot of pictures."
"Wasn't the only one," I reply instantly.
He shakes his head at me, but I don't care, I feel so dead. So drained. I should be sleeping, but-
"Do you feel better?"
I pause, my mouth half-open trying to understand what he was getting at.
"I'm not to stay like this forever you know. I have more to do than just hold your hand. You need to, you have to re-learn how to rely on others. Those girls are all more than worthy of your trust, and friendship." He glares at me, his great cat eyes boring through me.
I just got home after three days of people, people, people, and you want to know if I feel better? I already said I feel dead."
Pain...
I look at my hands. I feel nothing, I know nothing. I just feel dead.
Elijah... the story of his flight from Jezable plays through my head slowly. My eyes turn to his. He's watching me.
I sigh, resigned. "I'm tired." I protest.
"I know." He says. "But you are also writing. Not just planning, or gaming."
I grumble under my breath. "Yeah, so what, I still don't feel any of this."
"You feel tired, you feel spent. You did your duty. I'm proud of you."
I feel the tears come to my eyes unbidden. I don't know why I'm crying, I simply am.
"Tell me about your adventure."
"I posted enough pictures-" I protest.
"You didn't post the half of them, and we both know it."
I look away, gazing off into the distance trying to pull myself back to the moment.
"When you first were told... how did you feel?"
"Afraid... There's just so much that can go wrong... and I knew none of the people there. What if... what if..." I don't say it, but we both know what my fear was... rejection. Again. Now a tear really does fall down my face. Or, a situation where my health becomes an issue. It always does, if even just a little.
"Then what... keep saying."
I'd almost forgotten he was in the room, I blush, shying away from his gaze. I wonder how much wisdom and knowledge are behind those eyes... that's off topic. The trip...
"What was it?"
I bite my lip. "A retreat... an adventure into someplace far away with eight girls I didn't even know."
"Eight isn't so many... now think of how all your artist friends felt..."
"New kid at the party..."
"Packing..."
Anxious. I really don't want to say that out loud. I'd packed, then re-packed, then double packed... then felt for certain I'd overpacked, or forgotten something... probably both... somewhere. Maybe I should unpack and make sure I-
His hand falls on my arm again, his eyes firm. "Tomorrow. Rest, reflect, and pull yourself together."
"I'd rather escape."
"And avoid dealing with this, and forgetting the whole of it entirely.... you should also focus if you have any desire to sleep. What is one thing you learned... not your head, but your heart."
"My heart, or my spirit?" I ask.
He gives me that mysterious smile... I sigh. "My head didn't really learn anything... not really."
"I didn't ask about your head. What did your soul, spirit, and heart learn."
"Ah!! All of them!" I pause, trying to capture my escaping brain from the sheep pen... "I learned... I learned I missed doing things as a community. I miss my friends. I miss doing the reviews. Don't really miss writing-" The moment that's out of my mouth I freeze, baffled at the statement. "I don't miss writing?"
"You've never stopped, but you do miss the spirit of the writing."
"Sarah's talk..." I reply.
He nods. "You have forgotten why you write child. "
"I... still write my poetry. And besides, I did paint too."
"You painted so you didn't feel like you were the idiot in the room of saints."
"Translation I was showing off..." I reply.
"Exactly. You were showing them why they should accept you, then warning them why they should keep their distance... But why do you write, what is the spirit of it..."
I look away. "Originally, to have my sister's approval."
"Must it always be about that?"
I look away, realizing Oth had stopped talking, but rather it was the Giver who'd taken over talking to me, not through Oth, but within my own spirit.
"Yeah... guess it does," I say.
"Why do you write now?"
"So I don't forget what I've learned... so I have a record of what happened day to day..."
"What about your fiction?"
"Again, so I don't forget."
"What a goal." I look at Oth, as he smiles warmly down at me, his wings brushing my shoulder yet again.
"And what in hills on fire is that supposed to mean? What type of motive is 'so I don't forget?' What does it do for your kingdom? How does it further anything?"
"Some people write to uplift. Others write to inform, but you are there to remind. You don't say anything new. You shouldn't say anything new. Why do you think I allowed your head injury? Because you needed a short-term reminder to use your ability. You HAD to be disabled in the short term to understand how broken all humans are. How short-sighted they are."
"Alright, so this is Sarah's talk, Grace did one too... though I don't remember what on-" At that moment, I realize I can remember the story better than the lesson. I remember her talking about doing dramatic readings... something I sorely miss. But I don't remember her talk!
"Why didn't you write it down?"
"Because I wouldn't be able to listen," I reply instantly.
"And there are others, who took detailed notes, that if you asked, would be more than happy to share them... that is what a community is for. This work I give not just to you, but to many."
"So this talk isn't just for me then."
"You are the pen, and I am the author... is that not what we agreed?"
What if I get hurt again?
"Did I not teach you about the importance of not getting proud? They are on a fast track to pride. So are you. Fame must come slow, so one does not become proud. But, you will have a place in that group as well. And if one hurts you, then pray for them. I'll bring all good things to you as it is good for you to have them. This was my will. You needed that. The peace of nature, that I made... besides, you were praying for Blue Bonnet pictures."
I giggle with a smile. "And Indian Paintbrushes... got both."
"A walk, two nights of sleep no issues.... laughter, and games... and someone who delighted in your art."
"I have never seen someone value my work so highly."
"That is how I value it child. You needed to see that, to feel that, to own that look."
I nodded with a smile, glancing around, I realize in talking to the Giver Oth had left.
"Yeah..." I yawn again.
"Your body needs rest..." The information was not new, I knew I needed sleep. I was BONE tired.
"I created you so that after time with others, you would have to go off on your own to rest, to reflect. It's not bad. But you can't fear this weariness. You have to allow yourself out again. You have to let yourself build a community. but delight in the rest as well. Build yourself back up to sleep. I love you child"
"I love you too Abba." The weariness still washes over me in tides, but the dead feeling, the feeling that I had for so long allowed myself to prevent writing was gone. Probably to return.
There was a hush in the holy of holies, but it was fresh now, and free of strife.
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This was a beautiful post to read. Thank you for posting this though it probably wasn't easy and took courage.
ReplyDeleteYou can do this, VK. <3
VK - I can so identify with this process of thinking through something. Our personality type's internal dealings of emotion and exhaustion from 'people-ing' is complex and difficult to explain. I think you've done a nice job of putting into words the way that can work for us. I have often had conversations inside my head with an alter-ego of my own conscience to begin making sense of something. God is always faithful, in that, just like your post here, the Holy Spirit comes and gives comfort and peace in that situation. I find the tricky part is shutting off my brain so I can HEAR Him. Emotions are hard to sort, and we get so tired being with people, even when it is a good time. We question EVERYTHING when tired and over-emotionalized. Thanks for your transparency in this. I enjoyed the read. Love, Cuz T
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