the unexpected

what do i do with the unexpected? and why do i insist that my expectations will play out how i think they will when i know that is not what history teaches me if i care to look back? {yep, we're jumping right in today.}

things don't turn out how we think they will. but you better believe that the one time i'm right i cling to it and overplay it and insist that obviously, i'd be correct. 

obviously.

but if we're actually honest with ourselves then we'll admit that we rarely know what's coming. even when we plan it out as perfectly as we can. because i'm not in control. 

and neither are you.

in that sense we've never stopped pretending, have we?  

i wake up every day and think i have some claim over my time. but do i? is it really mine? it's a tricky thing isn't it? we have a responsibility to use the time we have wisely, but is it really my time? 

{i mean, i'm not zack morris. there is no time-out sidenote to the camera.}

i can't help thinking that so many days i'm wasting time. but then i can get caught in a spiral. if all i'm thinking about is how i'm wasting my time then i end up wasting more time thinking about all of the different ways i'm wasting it. 

it's a vicious cycle.

i've realized that i need to start journaling regularly again. i need to write more in general. because it gets crazy up in here when i don't. i cry a lot and i don't know why. it's usually because i'm holding on to the junk instead of processing it and moving it out. granted, writing more means i'll need to do some other things less. and that, my friends, is the hardest part. 

following the priorities we set for ourselves is hard. {who am i kidding, setting priorities and having boundaries to begin with is freakin' hard.}

things worth doing are hard.

we've somehow bought into the lie that comfortable is best. that the "easy life" is the best life. but the things worth doing take blood, sweat, and tears. 

but that truth also throws us upside down sometimes. because we can go too far the other way. we start to think things *should* be hard and we're messing it up if it's not. that we have to fight for everything and through everything. and this is where wisdom comes in - if we're only wise in our own eyes then we're screwing up. and it's also where nuance comes in. {we've lost sight of nuance. we like generalities. we like feeling superior and smart, and we're willing to generalize a whole lot of stuff about the other side - the them - so we can feel superior and smart. seriously. think about it. very few people will get down to the nitty gritty nuance with you. and, have you noticed, we also vacillate between general and specific when it serves our own argument to look at one over the other.}

ok, i'll bring it back. 

or at least kind of. 

you see, some days i don't have an answer for the "why am i doing this?" question that reverberates in my mind. those are the hardest days. the ones filled with questions that i don't have an answer for. those are the days when i end up with tears rolling down my face in the middle of the day and i can't even tell you why. it's because it seems like i've lost sight of what i was put here to do. i've lost sight of who i was made to be. and i'm not sure i'm going to find her again. but these tears are different from the aforementioned "blood, sweat, and tears" ones. these tears are cried because i'm working away from where i'm trying to go and it feels like i'm lost.

i don't know why i'm drawn to writing, i don't even fully know why i sat down to do this tonight. but writing is where i've come in moments like this. i ran to put pen to paper long before i understood why or what it would turn into. long before i understood that eventually it would be a compulsion that wouldn't leave me alone. 

i don't know how else to describe it. 

i don't sit down to write because i want to write. 

i usually sit down and write because i can no longer prevent it from coming out.

let's face it. life is unexpected. we think we can order our world, but the reality is that it's not ours to order. we're given a part to play, but it is not in our hands. and some days it's maddening. 

some days i get to work and i think - i can't even get my kids to listen to me, or even understand my own thoughts, how in the world am i going to communicate effectively with any other human being? or think i can be effective at trying to build something?

this life is maddening. people are maddening. {i've been told that i am too so i think maybe it extends out to all of us.}

some days the unexpected punches us in the face. and leaves a mark. and we walk around squinting through an ice pack for the rest of the day. dazed. unable to adapt. 

and in those moments {once i get past the screaming and the under-my-breath expletives that i try so hard not to say, but that often come out anyway} i feel the prick of sadness and lostness and brokenness. and then the tug on my heart. {not always, but more often now than it used to be.} i feel the tug that reminds me that it's not about my plan. you know, that "be still & know" kind of tug. 

the one that reminds me why i'm grateful that i'm not in control.

i know in reality it doesn't turn out to be that simple. because even when i get to that point of gratitude i still try to take right back over almost immediately. the echoes of the fall have a ridiculous reach. 

there's so much more i could say. so much more nuance i could parse out. so many layers we could peel back. but i won't do that to you right now. you've hung with me long enough for one thread.

i'm going to go try to pull at another.

xoxo

k