French Christmas

Prompt 11: #Trust30

Divine Idea by Fabian Kruse

Imitation is Suicide. Insist on yourself; never imitate. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Write down in which areas of your life you have to overcome these suicidal tendencies of imitation, and how you can transform them into a newborn you – one that doesn’t hide its uniqueness, but thrives on it. There is a “divine idea which each of us represents” – which is yours?

(Author: Fabian Kruse)

On Saturday night we walked through the U of C campus, where the Gothic  walls and rising fireflies and heavy, expectant scent of midsummer haze reminded me of just that ... a divine idea. My divine idea of going to grad school and the musty smell of books and living in the big city and seeing the lights twinkle and maybe falling in love.

And those things did happen--the lights did twinkle and the books did smell like anciet words and I did fall in love.

But the smell of library got boring and the love didn't quite fit how I thought it would. (The lights, though, were just as good as I thought they would be, and still are.) And now, 8 years later, I have systematically dismantled the pieces of that divine idea. I have clipped and cut and rearranged so the parts no long represent a whole.

I have a newborn collage in front of me--words and memories and tastes of the best parts--waiting to be assembled.

Facing It

I have been avoiding it, this first Saturday without you. Filling my nights and weekend days up with errands, dinners, tea times. Filling the emptiness up with the soft words and faces of friends and family, God Bless them, who freely give both shoulders to lean on.

But I know that no matter how long I put it off, sooner or later there will be an unscheduled day, a day without tasks and parties to keep me from thinking of your face and your voice and how we used to spend our quiet Saturday afternoons. Running from it is exhausting.

And so that day will be today. The first one and probably not the last one, but hopefully the hardest one.

Prompt 10: #Trust30

Your Personal Message by Eric Handler

To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men, that is genius. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

What is burning deep inside of you? If you could spread your personal message RIGHT NOW to 1 million people, what would you say?

(Author: Eric Handler)

Hey there World, per this prompt, this is what I have to tell you:

Find your own way to let go. It doesn’t matter how anyone else does it. Some people go jogging and some people go dancing and some people start praying.

I write here, in this spot, over and over and over again, and each time is like setting a wish and a worry down into a little paper boat and watching it float away.

Prompt 9: #Trust 30

Afraid to Do by Mary Jaksch

The other terror that scares us from self-trust is our consistency; a reverence for our past act or word, because the eyes of others have no other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to disappoint them. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson says: “Always do what you are afraid to do.” What is ‘too scary’ to write about? Try doing it now.

(Author: Mary Jaksch)

Every day the sadness walks next to me in place of you. Where you used to hold my hand, it’s there. Where you used to pour coffee in the morning, it’s there. Where you used to dance to reggae on summer evenings, it’s there.

It is bigger than I thought possible. It is what you think of when you imagine Mt. Everest, knowing it’s the biggest mountain in the world, and then what it feels like when you actually see it in person, not in a picture. Not from far away.

You warned me not to let the sadness consume me. That was your fear for me, and that is what I fear too. So I try to chop it up into pieces, rather than take it all in one big bite. I consume my sorrow a little bit at a time, one day at a time. A sip first thing in the morning when the day breaks. A taste at the end of the work day. A midnight snack before bed.

I try to cut it down to size this way so it’s manageable. I try to carve out a set space for it each day, so I do not drown in it. What I cannot finish, what I cannot bear today will be there tomorrow. Perhaps it will be more bearable then.

Prompt 8: #Trust30

Five Years by Corbett Barr

There will be an agreement in whatever variety of actions, so they be each honest and natural in their hour. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

What would you say to the person you were five years ago? What will you say to the person you’ll be in five years?

(Author: Corbett Barr)

So much has happened in the past month that I can’t even remember who I was or what I was doing 5 years ago. But even if I could, I wouldn’t tell myself anything. How can you become who you are supposed to be if warnings from the future keep you from making the mistakes you need to make to learn and grow? (This, for those of you who know me, is why I despise all movies about time travel.)

To the person I’ll be in five years – “Good lord, I hope all this was worth it!”

Prompt 7: #Trust30

Dare to be bold by Matt Cheuvront

Our arts, our occupations, our marriages, our religion, we have not chosen, but society has chosen for us. We are parlour soldiers. We shun the rugged battle of fate, where strength is born. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

The idea of “being realistic” holds all of us back. From starting a business or quitting a job to dating someone who may not be our type or moving to a new place – getting “real” often means putting your dreams on hold.

Today, let’s take a step away from rational thought and dare to be bold. What’s one thing you’ve always wanted to accomplish but have been afraid to pursue? Write it down. Also write down the obstacles in your way of reaching your goal. Finally, write down a tangible plan to overcome each obstacle.

The only thing left is to, you know, actually go make it happen. What are you waiting for?

(Author: Matt Cheuvront)

Obstacles. They are the same every day right now, always there to overcome. To be repeated like the washing and tending of a wound.

In the morning, the feeling of waking up and knowing that something is not quite right. Wanting to shut my eyes and hide back down in that deep cave of slumber. Pressing my lids shut because once they’re open and the sunlight filters in, the memories come back. The feeling of emptiness comes back. The reminder that it’s another day to go through without you.

And at 5:00, the anxious feeling creeps in, because this used to be my favorite part of the day. Leaving work and coming home to you and hearing about your day and being able to tell you about mine. Except now that anchor is gone. I’m like a sailboat without a port, like someone’s pet waiting at the window.

And just before bed. In the few moments after I switch off the TV, my company now, and turn off the lights and head into my room. Thinking how I want to roll over and tell you to sleep well and that I’ll see you when I wake up. And knowing that I can’t.

Every day the same obstacles to confront as I try to live my life in this new way. Every day a little closer to healing.