Yesterday I had a really good day. At a point in the morning I was distressed but ended up managing to self-soothe which made me immensely proud. I then spent the rest of the afternoon singing worship songs, reading one of my favorite books, facetiming one of my favorite people and her daughter, and ended with a Frozen sing along with my nieces.
Everyone left for bed, and it was just me left trying to hold unto the beauty that was the day. But I think most importantly trying to hold unto the good day that I had with my favorite person. God gently reminded me of the poem but I couldn’t let go.
I didn’t want to continue to grow without dancing with the wind, and I didn’t want to remain calm without the beauty of the bird on my surface. Simply put, I didn’t want to be. I, the bamboo, wanted to forcibly bend, rustle, and risk breaking to feel how I felt when the wind whistled through me. I, the lake, wanted to create a tumpest, splatter my water and create havoc, all to feel the beauty of the bird.
But the wind will never be able to whistle through broken and fallen bamboo, and the bird will probably never want to fly over troubled waters. So after crying well into the wee hours of the morning I decided to just be, with God.
Just being is a very painful experience for me because it requires repeated acts of breathing and accepting painful memories with painful emotions as they wash over you. Some days are much easier than others, and today is a very hard day, which is why I guess I decided to blog, being that blogging helps calm me in a way journaling can’t.
Today I feel like my only options are lay in bed utterly depressed, or manic with anger because all the thoughts in my head are angering and I don’t think I have the emotional capacity to deal with them in a healthy fashion right now.
I choose resisting my thoughts and risking the depression because it keeps me safe and the people I love unscathed.