Please welcome Michelle to our circle. Below is a piece she wrote while wrestling with the decision about what dream to choose. It gives me chills and we are thrilled she allowed us to post it. Please let her know how it hits you in the comments section. I love this girl and would love for her to have an overwhelming response from those of you it touches!
Why am I even here? To accept love? To give love? Giving voice to dreams? Somehow there's a disconnect; between my head and my heart. Between my life and my dreams. And a pulsating, fervent warrior drums the lull of "more" in my chest.
But what? Where? What more can I achieve? I feel lik such a loser. Like I could try to live the life I want but it wouldn't work out for me because I'm not a good enough person. Like who wants me, ala carte?
I feel so weak, vulnerable, impotent. "Welcome to my life, I have nothing to offer." I will be discontent even here. Going abroad will not make the drummer stop. More. More. More. He says I'm made for more. It thumps through my veins. More. So if it is some "god-sized-hole" and it's not going away, I guess I have to deal with it. Quit running and dodging and hiding from this hole. Or pretending it's not there. Or stuffing it quiet with stress, tasteless food, heartless exercise, and bland relationships where I am not me.
Even hearing the phrase "god-sized-hole," I think, "what a croc." So maybe I'll give it another, more comfortable name. I'll just call it More. More says there are untapped depths of self-love. More says I was made for more than SUVs, cubicles, stale TV shows, Facebook, overeating. More says take off your blindfold, you are wandering in a fenced-off pig pen seeking the next comfort when there are the most beautiful mountains just on the horizon. The most beautiful flowers that create the most appealing fragrances fill the valley. Gentle animals wander and play, exuding a trust and calmness that comes from knowing they are safe. More points out the easy, pure joy of children, even those who don't have a lot of comfortable things.
More urges me to stop and hold hands, look into the eyes of a young boy with a swollen belly from malnutrition. I feel angry, heartbroken, enraged, empowered to help this boy live. No matter what it takes. To put as much into caring for him as I have into pursuing comfort. To let go of the resistance and surrender to the course of life's stream, taking me to unknown and wonderful places.
I scream - "AM I GOOD ENOUGH? I DON'T SEE HOW I CAN DO THIS ON MY OWN."
Self-doubt has been a lifelong friend.
Ok. Fine. I relent. Love me. Let me find happiness providing equality and hope. Maybe I have a savior complex. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels because I'm not living wholeheartedly here, so how do I expect to do so just because I'm in a foreign country? Maybe living wholeheartedly is easier abroad because that's always been my clear purpose with humanitarian trips. Literally waking up every morning to make someone's day better and mine is certainly at the top of that list.
My heart can't escape the din of the battlefront. I want in it. I want to fight, to tend to the sick, to suit up and show up. I think I should be doing this here, maybe I can start by practicing little things. I could experiment by doing something that gives me the feeling of living my purpose. Today.
God. This is not for the numb.
Amen. Dreaming is most definitely not for the numb.
ReplyDeleteNoelle, I am super excited to see this up and I appreciate your kind words. Yeay!
ReplyDeleteMichelle
You're welcome. My pleasure. :) I hear there is another comment in the works!
ReplyDeleteSo I have read this blog multiple times since it's been posted with the intention of commenting, but every time I finish reading it I'm left speechless. Speechless at how well it is written, how powerful the message is, how perfectly it expresses my frustration of the meaning of 'living an abundant life,' and how similar it is to the prayers I've cried out over the past 14 years.
ReplyDeleteMore is a blessing but also seems like a curse when I'm stuck and don't know where to take my next step. More has taught me patience. More constantly drums inside but I cannot move until something greater than I moves in me first and tells me that I am ready move. More keeps me focused on my goals, maintaining my motivation to seek and achieve my purpose. Going through this process is far from a cake walk. Every time I start out sprinting I'm some how reminded (usually not in the most gentlest way) that it's a marathon, not a sprint, and another lesson is learned - or the same lesson that I've 'learned' a hundred times before with a slightly different twist.
Thanks for being vulnerable and sharing. You are not alone! :)
Bri