a message for you.
please excuse my dust as this blog site is still under construction.
a letter to myself.
(posted on Wednesday, March 11 by eii wyy nae.)
Dear loveliests, I seem to love letter writing these days. I hope you don't mind.
Dear Charliegirl,
Hang in there, girl.
I know you're feeling heavy these days (not physically, because - in an effort to combat the stress and take care of yourself, you've actually lost a few unnecessary pounds - go you!). But I know you're feeling sort of like an elephant sauntered along and sat down on your chest one day when you weren't looking. Well, you weren't looking, because you saw - out of the corner of your eye; that elephant was there.
And you thought that maybe, if you didn't make eye contact, he might not notice you. That's the way it works in the streets of NYC, right? Why wouldn't it work with an elephant? But he did see you (dangit.), and now he's sitting on your chest.And the worst part is, he's not the kind of elephant you can just wiggle your way out from under. It's gonna take some head-on-face-your-fears-maneuvering on your part. And you might have to actually disassemble him, rather than trying to get out from under him.And he's not solid either. He'll only come apart in pieces. You'll have to lop his arms off by facing that most frightening of worlds (gasp!). It's not gonna be pleasant; I won't lie to you. But, it's also not permanent. This too, shall pass, beloved.
I know you wish you could buy a new dress to make yourself feel better. But, the rub is, that actually won't make you feel better; it'll make you feel worse. Because, then, you'll feel irresponsible, and that'll make you want to avoid your issues even more. And well, you know how that cycle goes.
Let's not repeat it, you and me; we can do this. The good news is, his legs will come off pretty easily. Just make sure you sleep eight hours a night (even seven some nights will do.), and you won't feel like such a grump; I promise. It's amazing how much a good night's sleep can change the colors you see. His trunk will be a bit harder, but even that isn't impossible. His trunk can only be removed by sitting yourself down and writing those papers that you so-uh don't want to write. I'm sorry; there's just no way around that fact. And his body.... The body is actually not so heavy, though it probably seems like it. His body is composed of lots of things you can't see - emotions you don't realize you're feeling, worries you don't realize you're worrying, cares you can't control. I guess I take that back. His body is very heavy. But, you don't have to bear that weight alone. God's more than got your back on that one (pun intended.).
Take a deep breath and try to trust. These are the things that have to be given back to Him every day, sometimes, many times a day. You weren't made to carry them. They're too heavy.His head is of the ambiguous variety. It's all discombobulated and twisty-like, and it's hard to get a grasp on it, isn't it? It's all the ways you're falling short. It's the ring around the toilet that you haven't scrubbed. It's the email you haven't responded to. It's the shirt that's hanging on your door knob, waiting to be hemmed. It's the scruffy fur that sticks out from under your dog's collar, whispering, "cut me, wash me." It's the birthday present you've yet to buy, the papers you've yet to file, the mail you've yet to open.
I have a word of advice for you on this head of his. Grab him by the face. Use both your hands. Tough love is required. Look him straight in the eyes and say, "Quit making me feel crappy for all I haven't done. There are only so many hours in the day, and I am not superhuman. I will do what I can. But I will go to sleep with some things unfinished. Quit taunting me. Quit speaking to me of failure. I am fighting. I return phone calls. I wash dishes. I turn in my work. I walk my dog. I call my family and tell them I love them and ask about their days. And what's more?! I work with men who don't know how to manage their temper, because no one has ever taught them, and they got beat up by their fathers and saw things little eyes shouldn't see. I hold them accountable for their actions while teaching them grace. And I challenge them to be better even though they are bigger than me. I sit with couples who don't know how not to fight. I pass Kleenex to hurting women whose husbands have left them and help them find a way to mourn and live at the same time. I love people.
So don't you make me feel like I'm a failure. Because I do pretty well, all things considered. And I'm not finished yet." You might even tell those eyes that are staring at you to "shut up," even though your mommy told you those are ugly words. I think she'd understand now.
So, Charliegirl, take heart. We can do this.
I know you don't like this elephant, not one bit. But, the longer you just stare up at him, the weaker you're gonna feel to change things. Remember that moment a few years ago? You were talking to your mommy, crying because you couldn't figure out what to do with your life. And you didn't know where to begin. The resume-writing, job-searching, city-finding ... it all felt so ... BIG. Your mommy stopped you, and said, "Honey, you are trying to do it all today. Big things can't be taken on all at once. Just do one thing toward your goal today. Just one.
Do you know how to eat an elephant? You eat it one bite at a time."One bite today, Charliegirl. Or two, at most. We can do this.
I love you,‘charlieboy aka wafirahim.
Signed with love,
the diary keeper, ‘my charliegirl.
Labels: love letters.
