A week before the new year, I began to seek Clarity…and then everything went pitch black.
For the past several weeks I’ve been silent. Because I’ve run out of things to say. It’s not that I don’t have anything left to talk about, it’s that I’ve finally broken, finally shut down.
In keeping up with Mrs. Smith, I became lost. Are first, I was unsure of where I was. Then I walked further and, still, nothing looked familiar. A few more steps and I was tangled up in brambles. So now I’m sitting down. I’m not moving until I’m found. Sitting here on this stump amongst the brambles is achingly lonely. “Perhaps I’ll pretend I’m not lost,” I reason with myself. “I’ll force myself to carry on with life as usual: cook, build, create, share.” But my heart has lost its will to even pretend.
I still desire to write. I still desire to create and share, publish a book, explore distant lands, meet all the people, jump out of a plane. These are all still dreams, but I refuse to unleash myself on the world while in this dark and confusing place. I’d rather bring light, hope and inspiration to people. But first I must find those things for myself in a profound enough way that they stick…for good. No more band-aids.
Last night, while sitting in quiet, tearful silence, this poem came to me. I think it shares what I can’t otherwise express:
I died a few weeks ago.
But I’m still anchored to earth.
To hew this tether would be such a relief.
For then I’d float along currents not generated by my own striving.
I’d just be.
I don’t know how to be.
Is it possible that stopping is still doing?
Is it possible that giving yourself permission to do is just being?
Let’s try it out. Ok, girl, go! Do!
And so I dream…and then I sob.
No. I can’t.
It’s not good enough.
It can’t be “the thing.”
And with that, I die again.
Never having been.
What does all this mean for this little blog? It’s hard to see the future from my stump in these woods, but I think this will be my last post here. It was a pleasure for a season, but now it’s a burden; an outdated expression of myself. A few days ago, I let the web hosting expire on it and for an hour, Keeping Up With Mrs. Smith no longer existed on the Internet. A few months ago, this would have made me panic and freak out, but instead I saw it as an act of letting go—completely. It was a beautiful moment in its own way.
Thank you to all my friends and readers who have joined me along this journey. I’m sure I’ll be back only under it’ll be under a different title. Because I’m tired of keeping up. I’d rather be at peace with where I am now, be it far behind, a little ahead or right on schedule. Big love to you all. Your thoughts, words of encouragement and concern, and hugs have all brought so much comfort to me. I’m hugging you right back.
See you on the other side,