Torrents of August

Let me start with a quote from one of my favorite writers, who freely admits she has no clue what is going on:

"My coming to faith did not start with a leap but rather a series of staggers from what seemed like one safe place to another. Like lily pads, round and green, these places summoned and then held me up while I grew. Each prepared me for the next leaf on which I would land, and in this way I moved across the swamp of doubt and fear."

Anne Lamott

There are some days that it should be raining, all day, in torrents and blustering swirls around your outside world so you can curl up with a fuzzy blanket and a piping mug of tea. These days are for writing at great lengths, journaling your little heart out, or letting yourself dip into sadness. I've been wanting the latter. But, alas, it is 100 degrees and Sunday. Blast.

Things in my life, and several people I hold most dear, are falling apart. I use this cliche because it is one of the few ways to describe the truth of the feeling: that little pieces of you are coming off of you in chunks and you may just be walking around the block when your right arm snaps off, and you must pick it up like a piece of litter and carry the stump home. There is too much heartbreak around. One dear friend of mine is having her heart broken by a man she loves but can't reach, two have tried for babies and felt that all-encompassing loss of unborn babies who never got a chance at life. All of this suffering, while different and specific, is also all the same lopsided, dank fruit of the same gnarled branch.

I always wonder: Why must we suffer? There are a myriad of answers people tell you, many of which make me want to stick my fist in my mouth or bite the edge of my desk until my gums bleed. The most common is: Something better is going to come of this. Unfortunately, this is about the worst thing you can say to someone when they are still in their darkest pits. It is, ironically, exactly what I SAY TO MY FRIENDS! When it's turned around on you, either with relationships: "You're going to meet someone who really desrves you!" to which my brain barks "Ummm....I thought HE deserved me and I don't even WANT to think about some friggin new dude that I'm going to HATE cause he's not MY guy!" While instead I nod, and try to smile, cause my friends are working so hard with their big hugs and their lopsided smiles and my face looks so damned pathetic I should try to not frighten them to putting me on 24 hour watch. Or, with miscarriage, the ineptitude of everyone to convey their sorrow, so all we say is "I have this friend who.............." and you can imagine how annoying that one is.

And then comes the food....and the wine.....that lovely people bring to you because they think you might not eat, might not smile, laugh, want to go to a bar, ever again.

How does one cope with all of this loss? How do you live your life so inextricably with another human and then wake up to an empty bed? How do you hold something so tight within you, while trying to be a normal person who should clean out their CAR on a Sunday afternoon? Who should go to the doctor, make dinner, go to the gym? Well, I have a very good answer: SLEEP. Yes. Don't eat your sorrows away, don't over-exercise, or take diet/energy pills like Jessie from Saved by the Bell (please, we all remember this episode). All you have to do, is slip some melatonin into your nightly routine, and BAM, you can black out for at least 10 hours + a day, maybe more if you have my type of lifelong training under your belt. These blissful hours mean you can't look at painful photos on your IPhone, you can't think about painful scenarios where he was spooning you and the dog, and worst of all, you can't think about the day that may never happen, where you both make it work (which usually involves dramatic weather where you have to scream your feelings over a storm).

Naturally, I'm always going to ask what God (or the universe, if that's the higher dude you believe is jostling us like rag dolls) has in store for us. One of the people suffering most, who is dearest to me, had something happen this week just like me. While talking on the phone we wondered, are we supposed to be doing something? Is she supposed to move to Austin with me? Am I supposed to move there, to her? Or, are we supposed to farm in New Zealand while locals laugh at my inability to grow corn? It's hard to say. All I know is, that right now I can't see it. Right now, is when you have to grab onto the long swan-like neck of faith and ring it's neck, but don't worry, faith rarely dies, and when it does you have to do a lot more then that. Even if you're trying to strangle faith with questions, at least you're holding it, in your hands, and a part of it is passing onto you.

Because the lows creep up on you, sneak up like a sunrise, and the colors smash you until you can not see anymore. Some people can stop them, wait for them and pounce on their cruel little legs, but I am not so stealth. I let them grab me, tumble me, break me, and then I crawl away with broken ribs and hope that things will grow again, one day.