Stream of Consciousness From A Saturday Evening At Starbucks

27 Nov

I’m waiting for the moment when I can be allowed to begin again. I think I’ll feel it like an unexpected wind that will shock me as it bristles through my jacket and light cotton shirt.   It will be like a car shifting into reverse. Or winning a game in the last few seconds. I’m waiting for that moment. I wonder if it will come. Do I just wait here? Or do I force it to happen? I’m thinking about that time that one Christmas. That time when something beautiful happened and I felt different about traffic and that bell that the Salvation Army people ring outside of grocery stores. It went from a loud annoying ring to something amazing and suddenly I discovered the point of charity and what giving back really meant.

 

Despite the fact that I’m surrounded by people right this second, I don’t feel surrounded. I feel…alone. Alone in my thoughts and my feelings. I just read all of the birthday cards that everyone gave me. It took awhile. There were a lot. I’m trying to believe all of the things that they wrote. They are true even if they don’t feel true. After all, why would people take the time to write the same thing over and over again if it wasn’t true? People don’t have that kind of time.

 

I’m waiting here to breathe again. Christmas carols wash over me in a familiar way. They stay constant although I change. Elvis sings about a blue Christmas. I keep waking up with vivid dreams. Last night a glass exploded in my hand and the small shards were stuck in it. I couldn’t move my hand because everyone around was afraid to touch it in case the glass would embed further into my hand. I was on a hunt to find someone to take out the glass. I would try to climb the narrow, trecherous stairs in the lobby of a high school so that I could discover someone to fix my problem. What does this mean? What does it mean that I got seriously angry at Kurt on Glee because he’s decided to leave his friends and his school? I didn’t like that Kurt gave up. To me, he didn’t try hard enough. But then again, I don’t know what it’s like to be bullied at my school. I have never been THAT much of an outcast. Kurt could be me but he has an out. He can leave his pain and because it’s TV, things will probably get better for him in an episode and a half. Life should be as short as TV.

 

A bus stops and spurts and then takes off again. Someone in the parking lot needs his muffler checked. People around me laugh and talk about their issues. We all have issues. There’s something thrilling about tonight. The possibility. Nothing in particular is happening. Nothing life changing our momentous. Here are the facts: nothing comes all at once. It comes over time. It comes slowly. My moment won’t just hit me, it will be a process of me changing and evolving ever so slowly. I want quick results. Our world tells us we can get quick results. I hear that lat band commercial all the time that tells me so.  Everything is quick. And yet this process I am in is slow. It’s hard. It hurts. I want instant change. I wish I could run through it as if it were a sprinkler system, hitting me quickly and then having it all be over. So I’m trusting again. Trying to trust. It’s not easy. Sometimes I freak out that I can’t control anything. I want my family to act a certain way. I want my God to respond now and sometimes I think I can do a better job. I want, I want, I want. And I ache from wanting and wishing and hoping. Hoping against hope that things will feel better soon. And so I read Psalm 71:14

 

“But as for me, I will always have hope: I will praise you more and more.”

 

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