I’ve started writing multiple times. False start after false start. So much is bubbling in my brain recently, but not much that feels ready for public consumption and a lot that remains amorphous, still circling above word level, riding currents of thoughts and emotions, not yet ready to perch, much less to land.
Today is August 1st. I’m about 1300 miles from home. We’ve been on the road a fair bit this summer and right now are visiting family in Tennessee. It’s been wonderful to see them, and I’ll be so sad to leave. I hate how far apart we are.
Still, I yearn for home. For Maine. For my gardens, my space, my routines. For cooler temperatures and non-conservative values.
For the most part, I’m a rule follower. A non-confrontational being. Anyone who knows me well will attest to that. It’s not necessarily a good thing, but it’s a deeply rooted facet of my personality. Yet I walked out of a church service during the sermon on Sunday. I could not, would not, sit there surrounded by all the smiling faces cloaking judgment and hate in words of love. Judgment and hate that targets those I love.
At almost 80 years old, my mother-in-law is new to this church and to religion. It comforts her. It dismays me. Horrifies me? Like I said, I’m still trying to find the words. I can’t stretch that moment out yet. I don’t want to dip into it and write about it with details. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. There’s no denying that she’s found peace and serenity. But who is paying the price?
And August has begun. When August arrives, I already start to feel behind. All the undone things on my summer “to do” list, line up and clamor for attention. It’s like a flash mob of rebuke. I feel the coming school year getting closer. I feel its hot, moist breath on my neck. While there’s much I look forward to about school, I dread the freight-train-impact of its unrelenting pace. I know how it feels to be flattened by too much to do, too little time.
So, I guess I’m in a bit of a muddle. Traveling and being out of my own territory is something I value–shaking things up is important! But I feel unsettled, pulled by too many opposing feelings in different directions. My last few weeks of summer are rapidly filling up with “must do’s” and with each appointment I write on my calendar, I feel a bit of summer freedom fade away. I am thankful for the time I’ve had with family and friends and keep reminding myself that I still have two weeks of break once I return. Still.
I’m not sure that writing has helped me find any clarity. But I’m pretty sure it didn’t hurt.
Nix the comfort zone 
Thank you for trusting your writing -as hard as I believe it probably was – with this group.
I share your concerns with the joys and challenges of traveling and visiting those whose paths have slightly diverged even if we love them dearly. I’m there is that trench with you and it is hard – and all I can do is to walk away.
That along with the pressure of being away from your “home base” is enough for you to find yourself in a muddle!
Hang in there and continue to value the days and the journey.
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Thanks for such a lovely, thoughtful comment. Life sure can get complicated, but I suppose that’s also what makes it richer.
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Maybe it’s the full moon, but I felt every word of your eloquent writing. Today I have had a restlessness and an under-the-surface rage. I don’t understand its origin or know where to put it. Your post gave me some clarity. I loved your phrase, “It’s like a flash mob of rebuke.” It felt powerful to say out loud and still vibrates around me.
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I’m glad my post resonated with you and helped you find some clarity. I do hope today’s a better day. It’s hard to deal with strong, amorphous emotions!
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Yes, today is a better day. Thank you for your kindness.
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I’d give you a long hug if we were talking all this through as opposed to reading it in a slice. You’ve put a lot to respond and react to in this post, and sometimes writing doesn’t help settle the brain currents. I hope you “schedule” in some unscheduled time during the next few weeks.
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Thanks, Melanie. It’s a lot to process! Isn’t it amazing how you think you’re getting lots done in the summer, and then all sorts of last minute things spring up to populate that August calendar!
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Oof.
All of this. So much. But walking out in the middle of the sermon. Remember that strength as you stare down the “flash mob of rebuke” and work to hold onto your SELF when the freight train hits. (We always have such good intentions, but you have shown you have the GUTS.)
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Thanks, Mary Lee. I’ve loved seeing friends and family so much, but the introvert in me is whooped! And in a teaching life, August is always such a maelstrom!
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Wow. If feel so much of this deep in my bones. I’m a rule follower as well and many times, I keep too much of it pent up.
I appreciate the fact what you’ve said what you said. Sometimes, those emotions need to be expressed and you’ve done an amazing job of keeping control, yet, demonstrating your feelings.
Thank you for sharing.
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Thanks, Darin. I really wasn’t sure about sharing this, but as you said, I felt it “deep in my bones!”
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Molly, there’ve been so many times I started and started and started to write and the words wouldn’t come. Yet in the pressing on, something important – some valuable juice – eventually is expressed. In reading of your mother-in-law and the church I am reminded (yet again) of Romans 12:18: “If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” Some things and people are beyond understanding…I can relate to this tangible thread in your words, this great longing for peace and for home. It calls me more and more these days. Thank you for your courageous writing.
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Molly, I’m late, and you are probably back in Maine now. Your writing is strong and focused, even though your thoughts perhaps were not. You have captured so much truth in this post. Thank you for articulating how many people feel about wanting the safety of home, but knowing the “shaking things up is important.” Thinking of you as you prepare for a new school year. Wow, this thought has captured the feelings of an educator at the beginning of a new year: “I dread the freight-train-impact of its unrelenting pace”
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