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the potato eaters:Van Gogh

The day, this morning,  that I get up relatively close to the time of my targeted wake up/get up time I am confronted with uncertainty. Europe has found a workaround to the United States pulling out of the Iran Deal. My heart is numb but seems quieted for a second.  I think, hmm they are going to create the situation that will exasperate this latest Napoleon impulse in our country...I wonder if I should postpone taking care of my mental health, dealing with some patterns that emerge every time I try to escape the prison that I have mentally, spiritually been in since childhood. I have finally found an orthodox psychologist who is willing to work with me over the phone. 

I think if WWIII is on the horizon.  or if the so call Phrygian Revolution is going to get a boost in this country...if we are ready to fight it...If I am ready. Then I think God has this. I check to make sure.  I look at the exchange rates of the currency between the Euro and the Dollar.  It doesn't seem to have changed detrimentally, yet... Nothing has plunged....the numbness in my heart, the quieted stillness of my particular expression of fear, gives way...God has this, and even if it goes to heck, I think he put me in a good place...perhaps I will endure until the end.

Last night i was reading my notes taken from reading Nicole Roccos's book Time and Despondency.  She talks about despondency as being a type of defiance. A defiance to love, to caring, to live, to be in the brokenness and uncertainty of the present. I definitely can relate, as a child I would have nightmares of a monster who would come up the stairs to beat us, to destroy us...I've only recently stopped having this dream. I remember the day when I decided I was not a human being...and yes, it has only been recently that i have reluctantly begun to admit that I am human, and I say, defiantly, but culturally I am....(well I'm not ready to talk about that yet).

This spring a familiar feeling came over me, a sadness that spring was coming. I felt a greyness inside of me, the greyness of a winter sky brewing a storm of self-destruction.  The buds on the trees, I noticed them getting fuller, even despite the long winter of this season...each time I walked by the trees, I felt betrayed by them. And then they started unfurling their perfectly spiralling, green, young leaves, pulsating with the flow of liquid through newly formed cells, creating a visual boundary with the bluish sky, and reaching out it seems to the sun of Spring, giving thanks to God for being alive, by simply Being as He created them to be.

And this Spring...I felt far away from Pascha...and was not very alarmed.  A robin listening for worms heard my footsteps instead, and I felt a menacing delight to its stubbornness. All around me, thei earth, the trees, the early snow drops and crocus were beginning to bloom, and I was feeling betrayed, and somewhat exposed...where could I hide without the dank dark of winter, the monotonous greys and whites, the keeping one's head down as a brutal frigid wind blew, wild, mindless, and uncaring the chill to my bones...the clothes I wore that covered up days of not showering, revealing  me to be a blob amongst other blobs dealing with the elements of winter. Don't have to acknowledge another human being...I live in my iced cage of depression, anxiety, fear.I keep it covered as I move through the motions of living.

A neigbhour remarked that a pair of mallards took shelter in our community garden...I was not even envious.

Defiance. I remember the day I felt as though I was not human. I remember all too well the decision to not care, to not the time I came to Orthodoxy, I was not human...did not acknowledge it, then did not want to be or feel a part of the human race...but I accepted being a primate. It made sense...But as Orthodox, I have reluctantly acknowledged that I am human, although culturally, I will only claim Orthodoxy. Because it is safe. And it does anchor me. And I'm working every day to make it true.

So today, even in the midst of uncertainty, in the midst of the brokenness of this world, I will go to my substitute teaching assignment. I will advocate to being an intern as my teacher from school suggested, I will continue to paint and work on my art prints. I will continue to struggle and try to get up early in the mornings, to work on establishing a routine, and I will pray everytime I hear that the brokenness in the world had gotten a bit deeper.


May God Grant You Peace and Not Forget Me, Either



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