My Circle

As for me, well, I've been doing some finishing of my own...

I've sat down at the computer and tried to write at least fifteen times today.  I keep erasing everything.  I can't quite find the right words.  I want to tell you all about this school year for me.  I want to tell you about the adventure and the growth.  But it just keeps coming out a jumbled, rambling mess.

Because I think what I really want to say is that I'm happy.  I'm really content.  But it scares me to say that.  To just put it out there so bluntly.  I've been blindsided enough in life to know that "happy" comes and goes, sometimes rather quickly.  But working at the words all day has brought me to the conclusion that it's alright to admit that in this moment I really am very happy.

I need to say that because of where I've come from.  I need you to know that I'm healing.  And even if everything falls apart tomorrow, I need to know that this place exists.  Saying the words out loud makes them real, if only for me.

I've come a long way from last June.  My mosaic heart is being pieced back together by a Master Artist.  And within the restoration I've found myself.  The past twelve months have been an unwrapping of who I am.  The truth is that the last several years of heartbreak and hardship have led me to this place.  Those years set me up to see a new path.  If the walls hadn't come crumbling down I'd still be trapped inside, struggling to breathe.  That's hard to say, but easy to see.  I have become stronger because of the destruction.  Because I had to.

Last June I was sure that there was no way I'd ever feel whole again.  I thought that I was surely broken forever.  But I haven't caught myself gasping for air in the last few months.  The tears have slowly stopped falling.  I feel healthy in heart, mind, and spirit.  I haven't forgotten the past or put it behind me.  I've simply accepted that it's part of who I am.  I don't want to forget because there was love and because who I've become has been determined by where I've been.  So I accept my past and I carry it with me as I walk the new road before me.

And I have to say, I like this road.  I've loved watching my sprites grow this year.  I love their ages and the daily beautiful mess.  They make me laugh and it's a joy to see them develop into lovely little people.  This year I found that for the first time in four years I was sure of myself as a teacher.  This was my strongest year at the studio because for the first time I was sure of my own artistry.  I also discovered within myself a deep curiosity and desire to learn.  This part of me has been on lock down for years.  But once opened, I couldn't fill it with enough.  I've found a purpose within an academic world that I have never considered for myself before.  This year I called myself a poet openly for the first time. And I discovered what I already knew to be true, but was too afraid to say aloud.  I am a writer.  I'm alive when I write.  I need to pour out from myself words upon the page.  Most importantly, I've found my voice.  My own voice.  An independent voice.  I know this to be true because people who love me have noticed it too.  That makes me smile.  Because in the independence I feel a freedom to fully be who I was created to be.

Someone who knows my heart well has asked many times in the past few months, "Where has this new version of you come from?  Where was it in the past?"  I haven't known how to answer that question.  It just seems to have happened with time.  But in my heart I think I know that who I am today is a result of the girl who spent last year crawling out from under shattered glass and broken promises.  Who I am today is a result of a fierce drive to carry on.  The woman I am has developed because I cried and I fought and then I let myself move forward.  Or as my pastor recently put it, "I'm free to be who I'm supposed to be because I let go of who I could never be."

It's about the finishing season.  Because finishing is the same as beginning.  We finish one season of life so that we can start another.  Life is a circle.  Not a perfect circle mind you.  A melted Dali circle perhaps, with curves and twists, but a circle none the less, so that every time something is finished you have the chance to begin again.