I completed the Weinstrasee Halfmarathon in 1:46 last weekend, but that’s not really worth a mention…what matters is WHAT’S NEXT! (The Boulder Boulder Next Month!)
I am not what one would describe as a “content person.” Once I receive fuel, I may feel temporary relief and satiation, and I am superlative in my gratitude. Wagging my tail and grinning ear to ear. In the next minute, however, I am jumping all over life saying “what’s next? More! More!” In general, fuel stimulates my appetite rather than quenches it. I recognize that this ambition can be sorely draining on others and myself at times. The sensation of “Enough” breezes quickly through my blood and I require little rest before I feel compelled to explore again.
I Yearn….and always have. The yearning spilled out in ink on lined sheets, napkins, the back of my hand. words thrown together better than crayola colors on a page. You yearn as well, as it is an essential aspect of being alive. There is something you fundamentally desire that pulls your life along. Sometimes the tug is gentle, or a fractured magnetic force, and at others a deep sense of incongruence may form when you feel completely off the trench of what truly nourishes you. Truly, yearning is “loving something before you believe in it.” The yearning is often painful because I often don’t know if I will ever receive that for which I yearn.
So I run. I run away from yearning and question the desire itself, rather than my lack of faith (Martha Beck got me thinking about this tendency). What I’ve really been thinking about is how to continue seeking my yearnings and instead, arm myself towards the disbelief. What story am I believing that I’ll never (WRITE A BOOK/GET A COLUMN/HAVE A PARTNER).
So, I run. I run TO my disbelief. My disbelief is that my wants will push other people away. That my longings have negative consequences, AND I embrace them as the most cherished aspect of myself is helpful. I recognize their darkness but truly delight in the sense that I am living a life of constant energy, of upended vectoring of being here, now, me, that is ever no longer me, and always evolving.
In this respect, given this proclivity for exploration and new territories, it is somewhat difficult to specify what I want. I know that my wants will come and go, and while I am not always comfortable with this, I feel as if I am accepting of my microcosmic shifting. But it truly means confronting that I do not control others or circumstances but only intentionally respond to the triumphs and tragedies as they are encountered. I may sometimes overcontrol, or over plan or over think, in search of security and worthiness. But deep down I know…
that life is never secure….
but I am always capable or responding in passionate integrity.
This phrase was born from the Opera, and I’ve been navigating it for the past month now. It is my moto for my new year of life, I suppose. What do you want? Blankness will answer you, but if you push back the immediate grey, and the fear, it will become clear. It isn’t about getting your child to eat spinach, or into a size zero (really, overblown, both achievements). It is about the FEELING you yearn.
And I? I yearn for more… and that SHARED satisfaction of a co-created present. Where we each put in something unique and partake of the splendid savoring of combined nourishment.
To believe in my yearning. And continue to seek, strive, and not to yield to disbelief.
Here’s to what I want. Here’s to MORE.
Love After Love by Derek Walcott
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.