From my journal, 11/7/15. Could have just as easily been written this week.
Sitting here with my coffee, and continuing to second-guess myself. I feel constantly guilty for taking sabbath time for myself.
Any downtime I feel like I should be doing something productive. It’s become so hard for me to just sit, reflect, and journal – when I know, even when I know- that writing is the most life-giving practice I have.
When I sit, my mind either locks up or wanders. Neither are helpful. I feel like I’m a holding vessel for all of life’s anxieties. They pile on, one after another until they almost drown me.
Even now, I struggle to find words to put on paper. This beautiful journal wants to house beautiful and inspiring thoughts- to be a holding vessel for holy insights, ideas and ideals, yes, sorrows, but also joys; anxieties, but hopes as well.
My inner self is like a ball of twine. I am like a prism. Things that have shaped me, fears that grip me, joys that sustain me, goals that drive me: edges of this prism that twirls around the center of my soul.
The light catches one edge – joy – and life becomes more bearable. Not to be confused with happiness, joy gives a holy glow-cast to life; and the journey finds meaning, purpose.
The light catches another edge, fear; and my focus becomes survival.
Each edge has its day in the sun – a new joy or a pain, a fear, love. All swirling and twirling and catching sun rays together. One can’t mean much without the other.
That’s how you make a life.