Sunday, January 20
0 comments"And I got a girl in the war, Paul the only thing I know to do
Is turn up the music and pray that she makes it through" -Josh Ritter
One year ago my sister-in-law and brother-in-law took my four year old niece, Mayerelli, to the American Girl Doll store downtown Chicago for her birthday. The store was hot, crowded, and full of exasperated parents and little girls either gasping or crying. After an hour of wandering the store, Mayerelli turned to her mom, Rachel, and said: "Right now, I feel like my insides are on fire and the fire is stretching through my arms to my fingertips and I am afraid I am going to burn somebody." Rachel knew exactly what she meant: Mayerelli was way overwhelmed and had no idea how to express her feeling so she used a concrete sensory description. When I listened to this story that evening, I knew exactly how she felt. Other people stated how interesting it was that she chose to describe her feeling this way. I found it less than peculiar. I feel that way a lot of the time- the word sad, happy, excited, overwhelmed never captures enough for me but I know what I feel and how it feels all the time.
My mom's biggest fear about twosmallmonsters is that I will say too much here and someone will come find me in the night and chop me up into little pieces. Each time she watches 20/20, she calls me to tell me about all the bad people that lurk on the internet. To ease her state of mind, I have never included personal identifying info such as last name, address, credit card numbers, SSN, and passwords to my savings account. But I will be honest here for a moment (going out on a limb that Jan would totally unapprove of) and say that I have been incredibly sad and inconsolably lonely lately.
I can describe the sensation I have been feeling in a scenerio. Just this morning there was an analogy that I instantly transfered into my own body and mind. A boxer, when fighting, always looks for their opponent's weakest spot. If there is a cut or small fresh wound, the boxer will zero in on this weakness and strike, pound, and jab at this wound until it is a gaping and a dangerously bloody mess. The boxer will continue striking this spot with the goal of a knock out. The visual was very clear for me: my thoughts being the boxer and my sense of self being the opponent. I know my weakest spot all too well and unfortunately, the enemy has that same information.
Here's the thing. I think I am strong. I love being strong. I love being self sufficient and going to people for minimal to occasional moderate assistance when needed. I dream of being a person who can stand on their own, beat to their own drummer, laugh loudly, and be confident to follow my own path (even if every one else is chasing down another path). I also know, however, that strength is never just physical. The body so easily fails us and can seriously leave us as a helpless puddle on the floor anytime, anywhere. I do not believe in "the body is my temple" because the human body (though incredibly amazing) is also incredibly weak and easily violated. I have to- do- believe in spirituality as strength. I would be a laughing stock to myself if I denied this- my body, my brain are important but they are nothing when it comes to strength of spirituality.
So here I am, this Sunday morning, trying to take everything ounce of being to rally around my banner of power and strength. I have surrounded myself with incredibly strong people who love hard, hold me accountable for my actions, do not back stab me when I am not in the other room, and find joy in life's moments. I have surrounded myself with words of truth. So I have no doubt that this saddness will pass and that it will feel phenomenal when I pull myself out of this. But in the meantime I am crying in my car, seeking help of loved ones, being body slammed by my own thoughts, and feeling like the worst person in the world. I placed this picture of myself taken by Meg G in 2000 at the top of my post. In this picture, it is 5:30 in the morning and we are about to adventure in my truck to a duathalon that will, inevitably, kick my butt but not enough to keep me from the finish line. I am strong in this picture for so many reasons. What I want to say is that I am sorry if you see me backing away at times in the near future- please don't take it personally. I love you and promise to join you again soon. I will be smiling when I get back.
No One by Alicia Keys
Stick with me, Baby by Robert Plant & Allison Kraus
posted by Jenny Sunday, January 20, 2008
