I hate when the these teams play each other. It seems so trivial, but it makes me so sad. It’s in these hidden ways that I try to prove that I’m still rooting for you. As if your life — physical and spiritual — was contingent on who I crossed my fingers for. It’s so silly.
But I guess when we feel desperation, anguish, a deep need for hope, we tend to cling on to anything we can, even if it is extremely silly.
(Though Who we really ought to be grasping for is anything but a silly notion.)
I wish we could quantify and visualize our emotional wounds the way our faces shrink, our skin discolors and our bellies enlarge when the liver explodes and the kidney powers down. I wish an arm would fall off after a divorce. I wish our ribs would shatter or our necks would crack and that we’d stumble around with braces and bandages instead of button-downs and stilettos, pretending to be whole.
I was trying to find a set of photos I took on the day I got my dog. Too lazy to find my external drive, I perused my previous blogs. As expected, I came across an interesting look into my past life. It was very similar to remembering a hazy dream.
I’ve kept an online account of my life (a way to record stories, adventures, musings, etc.) for a long time. Well over a decade now. It’s had its up and downs, but for the most part in my last blog, it was pretty chipper. And I wrote lengthy posts — about late-night misadventures; making friends with strangers at a cafe, on the train, in a stairwell; the first time I saw my dad cry; silly and funny conversations with friends; etc. On occasion, my thoughts on something serious happening in some part of the world.
And then at some point, the thoughtful and positive posts began to dwindle, and the novel-length entries ceased completely. If anyone were to read my last blog (and thankfully it’s not viewable to the public anymore), one could see a clear downward progression. It was clear that that year was the worst year of my life — in a dull-cutting kind of way.
As I was reading through the rollercoaster of posts (maybe “schizophrenic posts” would be more accurate actually), all I could think was, “What happened to me?” I thought back on the earlier entries I had read, before I hit the spiral. So positive, so excited about everything in life, and most importantly so intentional with my life. I was living on purpose.
Living on purpose. That’s what I’m returning to. I have to. I like pre-2009 Gabrielle so much better than current-2013 Gabrielle. There is no doubt in my mind that I was a better person then than I am now. So much better. So I’m going to remind myself to live intentionally and be excited again. And somehow move forward — from everything.
(That may or may not mean the novels will return.)
“The pain we feel when someone leaves our life is in direct proportion to the joy they bring while a part of our life for a few moments. In my life you made me feel as if I truly meant something to someone.”
Sometimes, all you can do is exercise integrity. It’s not always going to make things better, and it’s not always going to make others act with more integrity or even respond positively. In fact, oftentimes, it will have little tangible impact. But it’s what should be done. Your own integrity is the only thing you can control, so act with it and leave everything else.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.