while making supper last night the phone rings. liam hands it to me and i hear 'denial is very under-rated you know.' it's my anj. yay. little else in this world cheers me like a phone call from her. we talk, laugh, share and update each other on life. it's a good thing. she reassures me that the 'bubble' i've been living in isn't always a sign of mental illness (ha!) sometimes it's really a gift. i guess i've been living that gift for the past couple of months.
maybe it's unhealthy, maybe it's sanity - i'm not sure. i just face 'today' for what it's worth. plan for tomorrow, but not stress about it. just for today. i know though that bubble can be very dangerous for me though. life here has become pretty isolated. i keep telling myself it's part of the withdrawing from 'here' so that we can move 'there'. i'm not 'cut off', just not seeking interactions, i say... dangerous ground for my family history.
my mother, and her's before her were both very isolating. both homebodies. most people didn't see it as closely in my mother because she was so sick during the end of her short life. but looking back i can see it. both she and her mother spent much time in darkened rooms, smoking cigarettes in silence, keeping the world at arms length. alone with their thoughts. i often wonder what did they occupy their minds with all of those years. what were they thinking about? my guess is the past, because the future for both of them was so very limited.
i also need to acknowledge that bubble has come between my soul and god. and it's getting more resilient as time passes. it takes a lot to bring me back in touch with it, and with god. the things that used to move me seem tasteless and distant somehow. i can't see where i lost the thread. where it began. how i got here.
i know i'm probably angry at god. i'm not sure why, or for what. probably that familiar tune that goes something like 'hey god, we're serving you, couldn't you at least make a place for us? it's not like we're living for ourselves here, would it take any skin off your nose to make it a little easier? why does it have to be so hard?'... ugly words like that. those kind of things always bring me great shame. so avoidance makes it easier to get through the day i guess.
it's only when i read deep experiences and soulful struggles by fellow bloggers like deb, renee and bob lately that have been able to pierce through this membrane that has cut off my soul. writings like these have pastored me through the past couple of months. shepherd my soul, my dry thirsty soul. the stark occurrence of winter here has shaken the leaves off the trees and exposed how empty the wasteland i'm living in really is. everything feels so grey and lifeless as i look out the window. i miss the color, i miss the cover. i miss the ability to hide, to isolate, to be so busy that no one realizes (least of all me) how absent i am from my soul.
anj gave me such a gift last night on the phone. she told me how something i had said or written came back to her when she needed it. it also came back to me - just when i needed it too. thank you anj. so maybe the tool of denial which was working for me for a couple of months can be set aside now without heading into the chaos of worry and anxiety - but into reality and facing the truth. the cover has fallen and the starkness of winter makes things easier to find.