Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.
Today I want to give up trying to stay focused. I never know what thoughts will travel through this mind. The path is never straight nor narrow these days. I live in a chaotic existence.
Besides, it seems no use to focus at this stage of the game. Time wise, i am at life’s climax. I hear people say its all down hill from here. But then i remember my deliberate intentions to go after life in 2018. There is a desperate need to walk off the mental weight of grief. Banish the suffocating lost dreams that mock me.
I spent last weekend at Lutheran Hills as a farewell to girlfriends i had met there 14 years earlier. A fall hike was being advertised at church that summer 2004. I picked up the brochure which sparked a burning desire to discover myself. I intuitively knew i needed this necessary journey and was ready to explore.
I packed my weekend bag that October evening and told my husband my plans the following morning. He was stunned but happy for me. He took our three kids for the weekend.
I had never ventured anywhere alone and showed up at Shedron Lodge knowing everyone was a stranger. This was my very first time away from family and i was 37.
At 37, years were passing me and i was lost. I had no handle on any of my emotions, my body or my heart. I was floundering. Drowning. I had a biting urge to change the trajectory of my steps and it was a blur. I was desperate still in suicidal ideation. Death seemed the answer.
This post is hindsight which clarifies the memories. The voices. I left Lutheran Hills this past Sunday feeling determined. Even if i am focused just a moment, that is one moment more to paint.
I have finished quite a bit in the last 6 years. I have my Bachelor’s degree. My children are accomplished adults, thriving and growing into their best selves. I will be moving to Boston this summer and starting the best years of my life. I will walk the 18- mile trek for AFSP in Philadelphia and then hope to hike parts of the Appalachian Trail. As well as work with the people who have not found their voice yet.
The reasons i write are many. I never had words to express it until conversing with Ray. I know what sells. I write (and now paint) to stay sane and that is priceless.
I drag my heart through sand and launch my soul on eagle’s wings for a purpose. To finalize this life and leave this earth finished with no missing pieces. With no regrets.
Happy writing, J💙🕊🎶🎶
Memoir Musings 2018 Word of the Year AFSP anxiety Appalachian Trail childhood death defeat? is there such a thing? deliberate depression dreamscapes forgiveness grace journey listening well love Lutheran Hills mental well-being out of the darkness perseverance Philadelphia PA suicide awareness this writing life