So much is happening in my life lately I can’t keep up on the blog. I usually have to have some sort of focus, a common thread, some nagging thought that keeps popping up in the dark of night or wee hours of the morning….a thought that starts making more sense in my head, turning into an idea that turns into a blog entry.
But lately I haven’t been able to focus my thoughts, reflect, or make sense of much because life is moving SO FAST. It’s not a bad thing, because all of the things happening so fast are good, positive things. Things I’d always dreamed of. (Just a few: I’m engaged to a wonderful man, almost all my debt is paid off, my old house is being sold, I’ve moved into a beautiful house, I’m in the best health of my life as I’m training for a triathlon, my masters degree is almost complete, we are planning a trip to Tahiti, etc. etc.)
Sometimes I tend to over-reflect, and over-emotionalize things. Sometimes it’s good to just let things happen, to remember that God is the wizard behind the curtain and you need not fret. His plan is unfolding before my eyes, and I’m amazed and in awe of it. I am like an audience member in my own movie theater – and I actually like the movie. I know that all is well. So again, it's not a bad thing that I haven't stopped to brood.
However, I did have a common thread escape like an air bubble from my brain yesterday. It happened when I finally gave myself a moment of pure thought. I rolled it around on my tongue like a piece of chocolate and let it melt in its sugary exquisiteness.
It started when I lead a women’s committee event at work where I brought in a psychologist – a mindfulness meditation expert – to do an informative session for about 150 women. Her guided meditation focused on a calm, peaceful lake. While I was meditating on the lake, here is what popped out of my subconscious, and I believe it is somehow a reflection of everything that has been happening so fast in my life lately:
When I was a little girl, I used to love to catch little toads. My dad fished a lot, and sometimes he would take us to this pond in the woods and we would find ways to entertain ourselves while he fished. It was a “secret” fishing spot smack in the middle of acres of woods in a state park, and we had to hike a pretty long trail to get there. It was a beautiful place, seemingly untouched. Often we would try to catch frogs for hours in the tall grass and muck with little luck, chasing them through the weeds. Sometimes we would try to find snails in the algae by the shore. Either way, it was the chase that entertained us.
When we did actually catch a frog, we didn’t really know what to do with it. It was like we had accomplished this great achievement, but now what? Usually we would hold it for a while, peering into the cracks of our fingers. We would precariously cup this scared wide-eyed little creature like we won a prize.
Eventually, when dad was done fishing and it was time to go home, we would have to open our hands and let the frog hop away. Every time, this would frustrate and sadden us incredibly. My dad would say, “No, you can’t take it home. This is its home.”
A catch-and-release fisherman, dad always would leave the environment the way he had found it. Plus, I’m sure mom would not have been happy had we brought home a new slimy pet.
Of course, the frog needed to stay in its natural environment to survive and thrive. It was a beautiful thing to our childish eyes, but we did not understand that it shouldn’t be captured, imprisoned, prodded with a child’s hand, or taken from its home. Eventually it will pee on you or even bite you (yes, both happened).
Still in the curiosity-seeking age, what I could not do yet as a child (and still struggle with at this age) was trust. I needed to trust that the frog existed just fine without me – I did not need it and it did not need me. It would live in the pond happy without me.We were both beautiful God-created beings enjoying the pristine nature that surrounded us, living alongside one another. We could eye each other with curiosity and trust that the other existed, that the other was always within our reach. However, that does not give us the excuse to abuse one another.
As you can see, I was NOT doing a very good job meditating, since I was thinking about all of THAT instead. But as I was remembering this fond childhood moment, I thought that this was very on purpose that this memory popped up. The frog scenario is much like my life now.
Like a child with a delicate frog cupped in her hand that she’s found at the pond, I’m afraid to open my hands to peak at it, for fear it will hop out and be gone forever. Or worse, that it was never there in the first place. Is it really in there? Am I holding it tight enough (or too tight?) Can I trust that this is all real? Can I move from post-traumatic stress phase and into normal phase again? Can I really let go and relax…breathe? Or if I crack open my hands will it hop away?
The truth is I have weak moments that I’m not completely sure. I’m not all the way there yet. I want to trust that this happiness is all real, and deserved, and actually happening. I want to relax by the serene lake, and quit chasing frogs. I know that fear and mistrust are the work of Mara.
It was also strangely Freudian that I chose a princely frog to illustrate my thoughts on the matters in my life, but fitting regardless. The man in my life right now is largely the reason for the emergence of this happiness, not just because he’s the love of my life but also because he has helped me greatly with legal and financial things that I’ve needed help with (apparently, these kinds of things are what people do when they really love you!). I know that my happiness is not just because of him, but also because of this phase in my life that I’ve worked hard for on my own (Getting rid of a lot of negative habits/things/people in my life and working toward my goals). But I also know that I need to be careful not to confuse the two and accidentally lay my happiness in his hands.
He and I are both caring people, and we can exist symbiotically. We need one another but it is in a mutually beneficial way. We are kindred souls, as cliché as that may sound. I am not trying to catch him or keep him, and he is not trying to catch me or keep me; although we know and have known since almost day one that we want to spend our lives together. Having both had negative relationship experiences, we understand that we can be together and love one another and still leave the “environment” the way we found it. We can be in awe of one another and trust that one will be there for the other, but that love is in its purest form selfless, and that neither of us have thoughts of hurting the other in any way, shape or form. We will automatically become better people together, because we compliment and support one another. We can enjoy this beautiful world without holding on too tightly or suffocating the other for fear of pain or abandonment. I trust him, and deep down, I know that I can open my hand. This is my life now. I can go back to that beautiful, calm pond of my childhood, and I can breathe.
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