Giving up

Today has been a little frustrating, to the point that I'm not even sure what to write or how to write it. I woke up early after some weird dreams - dreams about not doing my job well, about everything being covered in darkness, about being quarantined because of an epidemic, about running late, about people being annoyed at me, about doing my best and it not being good enough, about our flat being messy and dirty! I woke up with a heavy mind and I haven't really been able to shake it yet.

It's days like this that make me think about giving up. I try to write and all I hear is a voice telling me that I'll never have an audience, that it's far too hard to get published. I try to sew and after two hours I still can't work out what's wrong with the stupid sewing machine! I try to slow down and relax but all I can do is keep thinking about the other things I could and should be doing.

Questions overwhelm me, from the tame "should I just go back to bed?" to the slightly worrying "should I bother with taking Wednesdays off, should I even be a physio, should I cut my losses and go back home?"

I'm not telling you this to seek sympathy or praise, I'm just telling you because I think it's all part of the journey. Well, I hope it is anyway. I always knew that everything wasn't going to be perfect, that every Wednesday wasn't going to be world-changing, but feeling the reality of that is harder than thinking it may happen.

So what now? I guess I have two choices - give up, sit in a corner and mope or stand up, take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. I know which one is easier. And I know which one will get me where I want to be.

So here I go...

Shalom

Did anyone ever sing that song at school that goes:

Shalom, shalom

May peace be with you

Throughout your days

In all that you do

May peace be with you

Shalom, shalom

It's got a great, funky Jewish feel that makes you want to grow a beard, light nine candles and watch Fiddler on the Roof. It was one of my favourites in primary school because we always sang it in a round, which has the potential to be a hilarious disaster with 7-year-olds. 

So, from a young age, I've always known of the word 'Shalom', but it's only been in the last few years that I've really understood the concept. And it's so much more than peace. Shalom means completeness, soundness, welfare, as well as peace (Strong’s Concordance.) Completeness. That word makes me sigh a little bit. I want it so badly. Who doesn’t? To be living completely in the will of God with complete purpose. Completely whole, completely free, completely satisfied, completely loving, completely loved, completely happy, completely fulfilled, completely complete!

I've had moments. Moments when I've seen glimpses of it, moments that I haven't wanted to move from, when I haven't wanted anything to change. Watching sunsets at Jericho's Walls near my South African home, laughing in a tent on a cold New Year's Eve with some great friends, spending an afternoon writing and not even noticing the time go by, eating pancakes with all my South African friends, saying the right words when I don't even know how they got in my mouth. Those moments give me glimpses of wholeness. 

But even in those moments, I'm so aware that there is so much more. Which makes me think that Shalom isn't something that can be achieved on earth. Maybe not. Maybe not till Heaven. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking for it, asking for it, wishing it for the people I love. So...

Shalom! (and sorry for getting the song stuck in your head)

Change

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how much I'd changed, how f a r  I' d c o m e. Since writing that, I've realised that I was writing with a bit of an arrogant attitude. I don't disagree with anything I wrote then and my thoughts on it are no different. I still know I've come so far down the road and I'm still thankful for that. But what I've come to see in the last few weeks is that I still have a long way to go.


Over the period I was writing about, circumstances changed, I changed, I grew and the result was a good thing. But that was only the beginning. 


I've had a pretty average couple of weeks. Nothing really bad has happened, but a lot of things I've been feeling are feelings that I haven't felt for a while, since a couple of years ago, since before things started to get better. Things like wanting to be alone, feeling like I don't have the energy to be around people, getting angry at people I care about for no reason, or for reasons that I've invented or exaggerated, being scared of the future, scared of being alone, scared of not being good enough. Things that I thought I was done with. 


Just when I thought that everything was going perfectly, everything changed, and that's been a lesson. That's how things go. But it's not a bad thing. Change hurts, sometimes so much that you're not even sure you'll get through it. Change can highlight everything that's wrong with you. Change can be a struggle. But change is good.
I'm stoked with where I am, but I don't want to stay there. I've realised that change doesn't always bring growth, that you have to choose to grow when things change. 
I want to grow, I want to develop, because, even though I know it hurts, I know that the 'unchange' (yes, I just made up a word) hurts more. When we choose to live in the unchange, we sink deeper into our little pit where things swallow us insidiously, which ultimately, hurts more.


"Change. We don’t like it. We fear it. But we can’t stop it from coming. We either adapt to change or we get left behind. It hurts to grow. Anybody who tells you it doesn’t is lying. But here’s the truth. Sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same. And sometimes, oh sometimes, change is good. Sometimes change is everything."
(Wise words from Grey's Anatomy)


One of the worst things we could do, must be to think that where we are is the goal, to think that change is something to fight, to think we have grown as much as we can. 
Change is inevitable. Change is vital. Change is painful. And change is good.