Friday, July 18, 2014

The Train Wreck that is my Mind

Journal Entry 3 - Train Wreck

It’s been too long, again, but I’m not really apologizing because as you can imagine, things have been less than stellar lately in relation to a Blog-Friendly Environment. Moving, packing, living out of a suitcase and/or various baskets strewn here and there on top of each other – not entirely conducive to the creative process. But I digress.

Part of the reason for the delay and the nonsense is the smoking train wreck that is my brain. I’ve been spending time... picking through the thought processes that have imploded into other thoughts, like carefully pulling out trains derailed in a glorious, upturned disaster zone. Caution tape dangles from unrecognizable metal parts.
There are tracks for old house, new house, vacation, family, mortgages, bills, current demands, future worries, future hopes. Kids, dog, not my lawn anymore, where is my mail, computer isn’t working, what should I be doing, laundry, new job? new schools. I feel perhaps like Alice in the maze. I don’t sleep much, not sure why – life has calmed down considerably in the waiting phase - but I can't sleep. Wah. I confess I've been coping with things by living in a fantasy world in my head, half the time. An internal escape hatch, if that makes sense. Of course it's not the first time. Imagination is a gift.

The trick, I'm learning, is to live in the moment. Sounds easy. Not so much for this planner-type, yours truly. If I take each day as it comes, do what I can, take care of my own, don’t try to squeeze too much out of myself – things are fine. I have had several moments of simply enjoying summer. We went to Whistler for a little holiday, and I can't say enough good things about the amazingness of that place! I don't want to say too much because I don't want all 7 of you going there and crowding up the place. So I'll just paint a picture...
a chair lift moves through vistas of mountain cliffs and far-away peaks, swinging gently as cool air lifts off the snow bringing the scent of pine and balsam. At the top, you stare. You turn half-way, all the way around...all is beautiful, snow-covered mountains, some black with old basalt peaks or holding glaciers over their shoulders, like elegant ladies with white fur stoles. Clambering around little goat-paths, sitting on rocks looking out, and out...there are people, but most are silent. It's a place to balance your camera, to breathe. And wish you could stay forever. 

 Onwards and Upwards! To Narnia and the North!

 - C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy

Except we aren't going North. We are heading south, to Three Hills AB.
        We move to the new place in Three Hills around the middle of August, so another month of this limbo. It's a bit confusing. We are very, very blessed to be able to stay at my parents home. As I type this, we are sitting companionably around the kitchen table. (I'm being terribly anti-social but I do look up from time to time and offer my valuable opinion on the issue at hand...hurray for me)
But it is a bit confusing. I think we all feel fragmented. I can't seem to remember what I'm supposed to be doing, and there are so many small things to take care of. I know I'm whining and it's annoying. I have a new perspective, a tiny slice of what it might be like to be a refugee, or someone permanently displaced. We all need our own little holes to crawl into. That reminds me of a verse... "And Jesus said to him, 'Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.'" Matthew 8:20
Hmm. Interesting. I'm not saying in the least that I now relate to how Jesus felt on earth; it's just something I never really thought of before. He was homeless, by choice. He was intentional with everything in His life. He chose a lot of things I would not have chosen.
Midnight, and I had better at least go through the motions of going to bed, opening a window, laying my head on the pillow, closing my eyes. This blog post is seriously disjointed, but I guess that's ok, kind-of fits with the theme. I have no idea what I'm doing tomorrow. Which is alright, for now. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for commenting. If you have trouble, sign in with your Google account, or email me at