This is going to hurt.
I have been writing these words--sewing their meaning and impact into the fabric of my daily life and pulling out the frayed strings of doubt--for the past three months. By writing, I mean living them, learning them, discovering them when I open my cupboard for the peanut butter. I am only here and able to record them now because I believe God is truly full of tender mercies and very strong language, and it is time to put them down in this journal.
Are you ready to drive by a hospital and realize you don't know where the closest one is to your house?
Are you ready to see so many women with curly blond hair and wonder if your mom is still awake on your drive home from work?
Are you ready to be patient when you are tired and think about how to explain how your husband can take care of you because he doesn't have the knowledge of the people who raised you? Are you ready to not be patient the first 7 times around and to deal with that?
Are you prepared to let life go on without you, Lottie? Can you close your eyes tight on the fourth of July and eat a hot dog and emotionally crawl through the day on your hands and knees because you found your Montauk t-shirt in your hamper and none of the grandmas at this barbecue know you?
Are you prepared to let life go on without you? Can people grow and experience things without you? Are you really not going to Maine this summer?
Are you prepared to let life go on without you?
You won't be prepared. You will try to quit. Several times. You will actually try harder than you've tried at most things to get your husband to quit with you.
You will try and try to untie yourself from the stretching board. It will be embarrassing and sad and extremely inelegant. This is typically how lessons begin.
I wrote those words at the end of July. I didn't feel like I had finished feeling them, understanding them, so I left them as a dusty draft to haunt me whenever I come back to this space. I've never actually experienced reverse-wisdom before. Where you jump before your brain catches up with you, you drive away before realizing what you're doing. As I flip back through the pages of my brain since February, I think that's what I'm feeling now. Reverse-wisdom.
A few more thoughts on the moving far away matter: try to keep some things normal. You'll be an essential genius if you're wise enough to without thinking about it bring a dog you've started loving along with you for the ride. You may think now is the time to fill your life with every weird and different experience attainable. This is not the case. To an extent, do try new things, do try to care more about cactuses (I'm not using the plural cause it sounds weird) than deciduous trees that have a piny warm smell in the summer and a sweet smell in spring. Do delight in picking figs from your neighbors yard and stepping on oranges in your driveway, rather than running over crab apples with the mower. But watch The Office again. Make brownies weekly. For goodness sake (and none other than that), in the middle of a giant city literally filled with good coffee, get yourself some freaking pumpkin spice from Starbucks. If you don't already have a really solid pair of pajamas that make you feel like the best version of yourself, you're gonna want to secure some. Don't try to grow your hair out again. I know you're trying to be frugal and carefree, but when you put your hair in a ponytail you look like a colonial Captain Jack Sparrow. Give it up. When you've made what we'll call an interesting decision to be a freelancer (or let's call it a wonderful excuse to avoid the traffic all together) and come home from one of the most insane days of your life because believe it or not you actually have SOME work (other than for amazing friends and their ridiculously cool endeavors), your dog will lick the tears off of your face, do a little dance with his paws in the air, and transport the three of you back to simpler times outside of city life. Furthermore, if you've simply been generously given a partner who although cannot fix everything, can DEFINITELY make sure you eat food and will drive you to West Hollywood to pick up 9 very expensive rugs for these sorts of jobs that you were not ready for, IF this man has been given to you, do not take him for granted. God is keeping you alive through him. These normal things are your life blood. Oh, and BTW, not sure if you've checked the news or your friends' FB feeds lately but your life is looking PRETTY good right now. It is very hard, but you are healthy, your family is healthy, and this is a season.
It is romantic to venture off to new parts of the country and invest your life in new opportunities. Believe me when I say, nothing so grand comes without great sacrifice, heartache, and confusion. You're going to get a bit bruised. If your pain tolerance is low (ahem), the bruises will sting. Things to consider. Also to consider: everything in its place. A friend of mine and I used to say this to each other in high school. What kind of INSANE TIME-SPANNING reverse-wisdom is THAT?!
In other news, this "freelance" business has actually made way to some really fruitful, enjoyable work. Find The Eureka Company on FB, Instagram (@theeurekacompany) or on their site (theeureka.company). Another beautiful thing God is writing is our sort-of ironic but rewarding connection to Syracuse. I never thought that when the day came to play a part in it I'd be on the other coast, but alas, it would appear I don't know what the story is going to be.
I don't know what the story is going to be.