July. Why does this month make me feel a little panicky? Is it because we’re at the second half of the year? Is it because I am caught between the scared thoughts like Do I still have time to do the things I said I’d do this year and Where is my life heading and is it even going somewhere, with hundreds of tiny thoughts in between? Is it because I’m expecting something this month, something big to happen?
Maybe. But frankly, I just don’t know.
Deep breaths. Calm down. Relax.
Last weekend, I was with some friends and during a discussion in the car on the way home, my friend told me, “Calm down.” I wasn’t exactly un-calm then, but I guess I was talking a little too excitedly, and when I am excited, I talk even more so than usual. Louder than usual. Faster than usual.
Then I remembered this line I read from a blog post written by a favorite blogger describing another one of my favorite bloggers: She takes my breath away, and when she speaks my heart slows down. It’s true, because I look forward to reading her posts, and her words slow me down, too. I can almost imagine what her voice must sound like in person: a soft, gentle voice, much like the older sisters in my church community whose wisdom and patience and words also slow me down.
I wonder if something similar to this will be ever used to describe…well, me.
I’m not exactly demure (believe me, I tried). I am pretty loud when I’m with people, sometimes I feel like I can never be that calming voice, the one that slows people down, because I feel like I’m too loud. Too talkative. Too fast.
Then I wonder if this entire thing reflects how I treat things. Does this mean that in the other aspects in my life, I’m also too loud and I go too fast, too?
If I am to be more specific (and honest): will I ever be that person to someone, the one who takes his breath away, and the one who slows his heart down, too?
That would be nice.
June was interesting in so many ways, and I think the most interesting was what happened in the middle of it, the one that kind of spurned this entry, and made me face a lot of demons in myself – some surprising, some sitting around like old friends who poke at me at the least expected moments. I think I’m pretty okay now, but I think the thoughts from that time is what’s making July a little bit scarier than usual.
Ben Rector’s The Sophomore summed it up well: There’s so much I don’t know. Then he goes and sings more: And you find you’re holding on to everything you know, but the strength to move beyond is found in letting go. I wish, I wish it was that easy.
But if it’s easy, then it wouldn’t be worth having, right?
I don’t mean to depress any of you — these are just leftover thoughts from last month. I would have written more, except that I couldn’t find the words to do so, because I was fumbling for words and I didn’t want to post something that I will regret, or want to take back. But I’m okay, I think. I’m taking things a step at a time, trying to find a light to hold them to, and hoping that I would know where to put it. I don’t know if that’s a good metaphor, but that’s the best I can come up with right now.
Or maybe, I don’t have to try that hard to put things in its place. Maybe.