Isolation's Irony

So, here it goes.

I'm going to try to form into letters and paragraphs, what the past few rollercoasters of months have been.  Presently I'm in Corey's office watching the sunset between the small handful of skyscrapers in the Austin skyline, he has the babe, and I have uninterrupted silence.  And I'm going to dig into the not so glorious moments of my story, point out a few victories, offer a suggestion or two that anyone can apply, and conclude everything where it always finds its conclusion. 

Isolation and Wilderness

I found my cheek with tears as I wrote these words to the distant world of family and familiarity 1400 miles from my typing fingers:

....All of a sudden, it's just this major thing where everyone wants to be a part of Danforth's life, and I get stuck in the middle as "middle-man"....and sometimes, I just want to be me.  Plain ole Me...off doing life, getting immersed in the local culture, learning languages...etc.  But Danforth just disrupts that completely.  It's awesome, it's a blessing, to have such an incredible life that is so so so so dependent on me....but then there's not much me left at the end it feels.....

This was in reaction to the part obligation and part desire for a trip to Michigan.  First grandbaby and all that jazz, his first year...yada yada...it's important to everyone, and I get that.  But. There is a side of my needs that HAS to get immersed in the present circumstances of this really awesome and mind-blowing city and the refreshingly different sorts of people it contains. This can't happen if I'm running off to MI, or having visitors every couple of months.  Rhythm is rhythm for a reason, and if you keep putting long pauses in a song...after a certain period of silence, it just looses flow and intrigue...in my preference of not so experimental music making that is. 

That whole frustration becomes loudest when emotions are running high largely from lack of uninterrupted sleep at night...for 10 months, minus one day....and the 'independent me' feels suppressed into a ...insert mother rant we've all heard before here....  I revert to daydreams about my solo travels overseas and on-seas of uninterrupted immersion in whatever I was doing..and start to really dread the topics of Michigan and family and travel with baby.  And the thought of going from independent mom in her studio apartment, to "hey thanks for your spare bedroom" and making sure Danforth misses enough nap time so everyone can get their baby fill...makes me want to scream a little sometimes.  

               

Yet, there are other days when I just want to crawl into an old familiar blanket of the slow-paced-never-changing Northern Michigan culture and the people it contains. The effortlessness of many of the friendships that had already had years of establishment under their belts.  The family that lights up with the sweetest laughter I've ever experienced in the sheer delight of this little man at my side.  In the lowest moments, when my own mothering capacity has been used up, I crave family that can step in and around my weirdness and just take care of me. It's when I'm competing with D as to who can be the loudest crier, or on the verge of panic from playing the destroyer/clean-up teeter-totter game all day...that I realize how much horrendous change my body, home, circumstances, marriage, relationships, spirituality, have all been pushed through this year.  

I literally was near weeping when I sat in the extremely comfortable-padding-on-every-spot-possible- rocking chair (and its padded rocking footstool counterpart!) at this ridiclously excessive place to..Buy Buy Baby...stuff, watching expectant mom's shop....realizing how mothers with pre-born and newborn babies spend their time surrounding themselves with familiarity, comfort, and focused preparation as they undergo the biggest change a woman can ever experience.  When I, on the other hand, was trying to get rid of most of our possessions, and condense life into a 23 foot motorhome on a road headed vaguely somewhere else, where the small dining table was a diaper changing station, and I was having to run ridiculous distances to relieve myself when I was still healing from my vulnerable tear from a 46 hour labor/childbirth experience.  

Yeah, what were we doing, right?

But, I would never. ever. ever. change a thing.  Even for the sake of comfort and familiarity in form of Michigan.  And that acceptance still doesn't make things any easier. 

The Irony

In it all, Corey's patience for my mood swings has astounded me.  It has always astounded me.  And not only is he patient, but he actually makes something of my emotional mess by listening and giving incredibly simple suggestions that seem to always be pretty much right on. And when I was at one of the lower points thus far, he told me:

"We're just going to have to figure out what family looks like for us down here"

That changed the game for me in a huge way.  Not an end all, but just in realizing that there is a difference between being needy and being in community living life together.  And luckily our church, The Austin Stone Community Church, is the most radically action based community I have ever heard of or been a part of.  They model community so much that there is no lead-pastor, but a sizeable team of pastors.  And they unceasingly urge people to get into communities, not to be the next Bible study group, not to become a clique of best friends...but to live as a vulnerable family, meeting needs, continually remaining open armed to others, and pointing each other always to Jesus Christ.  They also unceasingly urge people to get into the community around us by continually offering opportunities through other non-profits and ministries...so I couldn't have landed in a better spot to struggle through isolation and find a conclusion than exactly where we have been placed.

And just like John the Baptist in his version of wilderness (my version being isolation), he was living out the sacrifices of camel hair, leather belts, locusts, wild honey....because his purpose was beyond his comfort.  His purpose was to prepare the way for the most spectacular event that history was created for and would ever contain.  Stepping into the larger picture, puts so much less importance on the "do's" of the day and the circumstances of the times, and so much greater purpose in and on WHO it is all for and about:

"Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father"

A Done List. Turbo Productivity. Passion & Purpose.

So, even with the glorious imagery of Who it is really, actually all about...it still comes down to the day to day stuff.  That long-winded novel content type stuff.  There was a pivotal point when I listened to a podcast by a, yes, happiness expert, and a gigantic piece of advice I took from it and have adapted some has altered my entire world. 

A Done list. 

I'm talking about making a list of the things you'd like to accomplish through the day in small writing.  And in larger writing, make a list of the things DONE during the day (that took the most time.)  So when the end of the day comes, and baby is wiggly and needy and crying, house is piles of mess, dirty dishes guarding the entrance to the kitchen making dinner impossible, and the slight panic hits me upon Corey's arrival home and the lie assaults me that...I'm...a ...complete...failure.  Instead of looking around at all the things I haven't done, there is a giant list on the wall, in large letters, reminding me of all I have done through the day.  And so far, this hasn't failed me yet.  It is awesome and I highly recommend it for those that set extremely high expectations on themselves that can never quite seem to live up to them (because it is an infinite and intangible high bar).

Turbo Productivity.

Also, to add, I've also realized that highly focused concentrated work times are greater than spread out ongoing busyness/productivity throughout the day.  So because I value space on the floor and countertops, when the day is done, I can have some turbospeed cleaning going on...and when the middle of the day brings the whole destroyer/clean-up teeter-totter game, I can just have the peace to sit down in the middle of the piles, and pick up my guitar so the toothy grinning little man can see his true momma. 

Passion & Purpose. 

I've realized that I'm an unusually blessed person to have another person providing all the foundational needs.  And it dawned on me, that this is a perfect opportunity to make my passions just as much a priority as my home cleaning.  Those don't even deserve to be in the same sentence do they!?  So, my passions that feed my purpose in life, make it on the to-do list, and the greatest goal of the day is to make sure they make it to the Done list. 

There have been weekends that end, and I look around at the rancid mound of cloth diapers, every possible surface covered with just mess, and all the   fill in the entropy of home life here    going on...yet...we were so radically alive in some form or another. 

 Home entropy vs. Living radically

There are, from time to time, series of days that emerge into my life that bring me out of the lowest periods of the adjustment phase and remind me that I am still Meg, passionate and purpose-filled. Each time these spectacular moments occur, they symbolize the shedding skin of this past rugged season and all its harsher rougher-around-the-edges-moments. And new life emerges.  These are times of dancing, friendship, laughter, random acts of Gospel, they are love in life. It's the countless random moments where I again find the...freedom...movement...and motion.

When time was spent, front stage and center, surrounded by sequins, wigs, trombones, and trumpets..and I, in my regular-ole-me kind of simple dress, my long curls whipping to the melodies and beats, arms conducting my own mind's madness, feet unable to stay grounded.

When Corey and I learned how to laugh again, like belly laugh, through our very own obscure senses of humor.

When friendships come to feel more familiar than they do new and when overwhelming & giddy joy bounces back into my speech through sharing Jesus with the mailman, the lonely guy at the library, a neighbor...doing spontaneous responses to the nudges and urges we often get but ignore.

Life comes back in these moments, flooding into my veins...  

Of course, these are just days.

And all days do come to an end. 

And there are and still will be dumb days where I can't quite click into gear.  

But the difference is; I've grown.  I don't internally beat myself up half as much as I used to, and I'm beginning to accept the fact that white space and boredom are worth fighting for in a world that has so many new comics and jokes about smart phone and Facebook addictions. I'm beginning to shut up the voice telling me I must live up to my expectations of my independent, pulling-it-together image I so love to uphold in my mind, and accept reality that I'm not half as cool and collected as I'd like to be.  

So, I conclude with where I started (notice the title)...that Isolation's biggest Irony, for this particular journey, is that it has been the perfect catalyst for growth. 

And we shouldn't be so afraid of it in those moments and times where we often sort of "fearfully" grab for a distraction, some time filler, busyness maker, so we can identify ourselves as people who have purpose. 

When in reality, purpose is in Person.  Namely, Jesus Christ.  And the present ministry He has given me is in a smaller person, Danforth William.  

And both these incredibly important people, are forming me to be the wife Corey needs, and the daughter/sister/friend/mentor/leader/listener/writer/singer/dancer that the rest of the world needs.

Thanks for reading my rants, and I hope I've inspired you to embrace some of the refinement in the silence of whatever your wilderness might be.  For me, it has clearly been isolation, for you, it's probably something else.  But these circumstances are so essential to our humility and growth, because really, and obviously, and completely, and seriously, it all reminds us and helps point us to the undeniable Truth that we will always, desperately, need,

a Savior.

Blessings,

M