So, I have decided to change my blog. I wasn't too inspired to write at my old blog and there was something that was not right. But, I was struck with reading Brennan Manning's book "Ruthless Trust" by a comment he made about visiting friends when he visited certain cities. He knew that their interaction would not be for long or on a consistent basis, but it was still a good thing. I have also met many people on the journey whom I no longer live near, but they still have a piece of my heart. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. When I was younger and moved around about once a year, I felt incredibly grieved that I did not have a sense of home. The relationships that helped create a sense of self were not consistent or easily accessible. Now, I have settled down to a certain extent-I have lived in the same vicinity for over three years; I have essentially had two jobs except for a 6 month transition which proved invaluable; I have friends that I see on a consistent basis (some I have known for almost 8 years); I have a faith community that I call my own, even when I feel uncomfortable there. But, there is always a yearning for something more in me. I often feel adrift because of the little transitions and that I really don't have a plan pointing me in a certain direction. I thought that I had a plan, but I have not achieved it in the time-line that I had projected, and I feel that the path may be heading in a different direction that I thought.
So, here I am on a Sunday night, starting a new blog. Not really sure if I will have blog companions... but we'll see. If nothing else, I can write quotes and pontificate on their virtues or rail against the injustices of the world. But, I do have Thanksgiving blogs planned for this whole week.
1 comment:
So now many things that were perplexing to me in our phone conversation about blogs has come to light... First I couldn't quite understand why your blog sounded like a call girl service, and that is because I was going to your _old_ blog, recreatingsilences, and I think that is why I wasn't able to sign on (or maybe it was just my mothers overly secured computer? That's usually the reason behind the things that can't be done).
I found the "anonymous" comment to be very thoughtful and considerate.
I have similar feelings about the plan I had for my life. It seems to make it's own direction indepentant of my own hopes for myself and I try to listen to those quiet nudges that I can't shake. But there is that same yearning for something more, the desert. Oh, God why a desert? It seems that much of my life has been spent in a metaphoric wilderness... So why would I need anymore of it?
As a child in an army family moving constantly I always carried a sense of guilt that I was deficient in making and keeping friends. In my mind it was my own fault... I wish I had a healthier outlook, more like your own where there would have been room for grief.
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