Sunday, November 28, 2004


It seems like the thoughts and feelings of the past twenty-two years of my existence are converging violently. My pride and shame, my drive and my sloth, my isolation and my dependency, they're all smashing into one another, demanding immediate reconcilaton. A lifetime of trying to become something, all different manner of something, is reaching its natural apex. It is now the time to become who I am; and who shall I be?

The process of growing up and becoming who you are is painful. It's much more painful than I ever could have imagined. In these last few weeks, I've held weeping loved ones, trying to reassure them that life is worth living. That we are here for a purpose, and that purpose is worth all of the suffering and trials that living implies. And I've been reduced to tears, trembling under the weight of those very same questions, and I've patiently endured a best friend's efforts to comfort me in my sorrow.

This life is sometimes miserable. I have often wished to rip out my desires by their roots. To live with them, and all the frustration of leaving them unsatiated, borders on the intolerable. I know that I will never have my heart's greatest desire, but still I sit hoping, waiting, watching, listening for any sign of hope. I could never live with myself if I took by force what I so violently desire, but neither can I simply convince myself to give up and settle for what I have been given already.

I know that there are better things for me in this life than those things I have merely preferred for my own future. The greatest blessings in my life I never would have thought to ask for, left to my own base and limited worldview. The greatest lessons I've learned, I would not have chosen to learn had I been given the option. They were too painful and sacrificial to have ever desired them. Though, looking back on my life, I would change little. I do not regret much. Only loving others less than I should have, and having been more trouble than I ought have been. I have been very fortunate in being too naturally timid to cause myself or others very much trouble. I have never been a great bother; not because of my saintliness, mind you, but because of my lack of it.

I think I need to go away for a while. To off and be somewhere. Somewhere where I can listen only to my own voice, and the voice of God, and learn how to discern which belongs to whom.