Plumb music video "Taken"

dancing with the rain

She stood outside, surrounded by rain with her face turned upward, staring into the overwhelming ominous sky. Shades of grey, moving and churning above her, but at the same time around her and within her as well. The rain was like a blanket, hovering over her and wrapping itself around her and through her as she stood there. Her red dress clung to her, sticking to her thighs and resting at her knees. Her bare legs cool as the water beat against them and ran down into the black high heels that tied around her ankles. Paralyzing, the dance of the storm created a new world for her. One that was safe and personal and beautiful.

The ground underneath her began to turn to mud, pooling water that begged to reach up her shoes as her heart began to beat in rhythm to the thunder. She became part of the storm as it swept over and through her, deafening her to anything but the wind and the melodic dropping of water. Each raindrop becoming a prism of grey hughs, reflecting her spirit as they landed on her body and that of the earth around her. Breathing deeply, she could taste the moisture in the air, and could feel the wetness on her lips and tounge. And as she felt the dance of the rain, as the rhythm captivated her spirit and body, she decided to give in.

So she reached down. Her dark hair, hanging in locks, dripped forward over her shoulder. And time stood still for that moment, as she undid the tie around her ankles and removed her shoes. Stepping into the cold, soft earth, she breathed again, and her breaths took on the wind to match her heart's rhythm of the rain.

Wild, untamed, and overflowing with life. She danced with the rain.

Wounds instead of scars

My mind plays games with me sometimes, and I almost become overwhelmed by my feelings of emptiness and pain. I'm having one of these moments right now, and so I am coming back to these two things:

1) At the end of Exodus and Joseph's story, it's questioned as to why Joseph was allowed to go through so many difficult things. The conclusion is that he could be content and joyful about his past because through it, many people survived. Because of my pain, too, many people will be able to survive.

2) When I lose everything, I accomplish things. This has always been true of my life. Just in this last week, for instance, I lost 4 pounds, am booking speaking engagements, and making active steps toward operating my own business including having more music students lined up at a music store.

But somehow, it's not helping today and I am sitting here sobbing. Somehow, this doesn't help the ache in my heart that screams out for someone to hold me. Seriously, God, I need something to change. I want to love and be loved. Why isn't the heart something that can just be ripped out once and then it can't be ripped out again? Instead, it's something that can continue to feel pain exactly as it did the first time it was ripped out of a chest, even if it's the hundreth time it's actually happened. Wounds are different than scars. Wounds can still hurt and bleed.

Empty.

Before you decide to get into a relationship, seriously contemplate the success of that relationship...because if it falls apart, you may feel some things that are uncomfortable and would be nicer left unfelt. Like emptiness.  We still have a relationship, but it's different. A lot different. And I am lonely. And empty. He is too.

It's all about counting the cost and deciding if it's worth it to you---knowing that you may feel pain during the process of your relationship with someone. Is it worth that pain? Is it worth feeling so empty that you can't even identify the names of what you feel? You long to stuff things in that blank space so that you feel complete again. All that you can find that fits the jagged edges of that void is the title "relationship." However, no matter how hard you try to put a human relationship in there, all that happens is that the more you push, the more you both get cut and scraped as you try to fill the gaps. It's a brutal cycle, but the sooner you recognize that you can't fill the void of a broken relationship, the sooner you can begin to heal those jagged edges.

There's another who counted the cost of me before, and he thought I was worth it. Knowing that it's possible I would never want him to begin with. Knowing that if I did, I would fall. That there would be moments when I would wander to something or someone else, and it would hurt him. Despite the agony and desperation felt though, he still chose me. And he is the only one that can fill my void now, taking his hand and smoothing down those jagged edges even if he bleeds in the process.

Keep choosing me, El Rachum, my Heavenly Father.

The Details

The details. Most people don't work these out--they have a mediator intervene the war-like tactics involved in "determining the details" of a separation. I have a sneaking suspicion it comes to this because people didn't marry their best friend at the time of the wedding...

We "worked out the details" yesterday. It is, in fact, the most ridiculous arrangement I have ever heard from anyone. It works, though, and we are both completely relieved that we can just be friends, focus on our goals and dreams, and not have the stress involved in "trying" to have a relationship and feelings that just are not working right now. The first time we fell in love, we weren't trying. We've realized it's not a very good idea to try to force these things unless you don't mind dying young as a result of the stress. If we fall in love a second time, it will not be because we are trying.

So as it stands now, we will continue to live together. A room with a cot will probably be created downstairs for one of us to sleep if needed. A divorce will only happen if God brings someone else into one of our lives (which I'm guessing the chances of happening are very slim since this person would be entering an intact family, have to be approved by all of us, and would have to understand and accept the dynamics of John's and my relationship). If we move from here, we'll either build or try to get a duplex home with a door between the living spaces so things are not weird or stressful for the kids--we will always still be a family. All of us. Oh, and one more small detail: John thinks we shouldn't mention us being separated to people. I guess we'll see how well that one works out, because someone is bound to pick up on it at some point.

Just from what we've gone through already, I realize this whole arrangement could change tomorrow...but since we're not following rules of what Christian married people are "supposed" to do anymore, I am thinking this agreement is going to hold. We are very clearly in God's will now, and it's a big relief to not be fighting what he has laid on both of our hearts.

So now, I'm am relearning how to breathe. Again. This time though, not going back prematurely.

Swinging

I walked out to the wooden dock pier in the dark of the night. My white knit hat, washed blue jeans, my favorite canvas shoes, and my Dr. Suess zip up sweatshirt over tight layers of spaghetti strapped and thermal shirts. I was going to walk the rock pier out to the edge in Clute Park, but opted instead for a better lit area since I was alone. So it was me, the water, the darkness...I was excited to enter the building at the end of the path...There, I would be able to sit and watch the water without feeling like a nomad. As I got towards the building though, I noticed the two teenagers inside. Making out on the bench. Guess I didn't need to worry that the other lone car in the parking lot belonged to some creepy murderer guy who was just waiting for some single girl to walk by him.

I left. But not before walking the boardwalk, watching the small waves lap against the wood, and thinking about the kids in the outlook that were so crazy in love that they braved the 50 degree weather wearing only jeans and hoodies just so that their bodies could be closer to each other as they kissed in the moonlight. And I thought about them. Little did they realize that there is a girl years older than them, wishing for the moment they had.

I pondered where else to go, what to do. It's like that moment when you really want to talk to someone and maybe just be still with them, listening to your favorite songs on the radio and lying on your backs staring at the stars or a ceiling. But instead of that moment, it's the one that you actually find yourself alone in, so you have to make another plan. While the place I usually run to is the cemetery on the hill, that just didn't seem like the best decision at night and alone. I had decided to just walk Franklin Street, but then I saw the park...

It was peaceful. No one else was there. Even though it is surrounded on every side by streets with parked or driving cars, a traffic light adjacent to it, and there is no privacy anywhere in it, it was a sanctuary for me. Somehow, time stopped as I got out of my car and walked to the swing. Sounds dimmed, and the awareness of other living things around me faded.

I swung for a while. It probably looked ridiculous to people driving by, but I didn't much care. There's something about swinging that gives you the illusion of flying, being freed from the things that hold you down. And the beautiful part is that you are in control of it all. My favorite is to tip my head back so that on the back swing, it appears to you as though you're going to slam your head into the ground and snap your neck backward...but just before that happens, the arc takes you away from the ground and you head toward the tree tops instead.

My arms finally ached, and I decided that I was centered enough to go home. It felt good to work things out, so to speak, between God, myself, and the swing. Maybe next time, I will be in that little building on the edge of the pier. And if not, there is always Lafayette Park with its single swing.

Here Again...but different

Well, here I am again. Apart. Separated. And yet, it's beautiful this time. Not so scary.

Simply put: we both knew this isn't where we're supposed to be right now...and I realized I was starting to die again...so it was either give in and be subjugated and lifeless again, or take a step back. I didn't know that he also knew this is where we are supposed to be until I told him. Over the phone. During lunch break. Awesome timing for a "break up" conversation, right? But it was beautiful, because I am breathing again, and he understands, and this is where we're supposed to be.

That's it. We're here again, but it's different, because this time it's not done out of fear or hurt or pain. It's done because we both know this is where we are to be now, and we know it's time to focus ourselves in the stillness and not force something to be that shouldn't.