Ah the glories of a new semester.
The wonder of this being the last.
Rain has fallen nearly steadily since I returned to classes. Almost as if nature itself cannot console itself with the changing tides. That’s been a big theme for the past year. Change. Here I have talked a lot about how receptive I have been to it, but really that’s only a part of the picture.
I don’t publish the things I’ve been learning until long after I’ve realized the lesson is there. At times I am in the midst of it still, but yet, I am far from the beginning.
I’m reminded of that journey as I sit in an unfamiliar place imagining an unfamiliar scene. It would be so simple to just look out the window and picture what I’d like to be there – I so often do. But how often do I look to see what’s there?
What is right before my face.
Not often, I must admit.
It is so much easier for me to dream of something than to admit what I have is, well, what I have. An empty sidewalk is easily a running track for unicorns or an epic battle ripped from my history text. But it is hard to see the rain hitting the empty bricks as just that. When a person walks by, how easy for me to wind them into the drama I have created rather than admit them to their own category – reality.
As I said before, it takes me time to admit where I fall short. I think it’s because I often I have trouble seeing what’s there. I can see what could be there. As in, I see the ‘me’ I’ll probably be in 10 years. The ‘me’ I desire to be in a given circumstance.
The 'me' I am right now?
She’s not all that great.
But she wants to be.
And I suppose that’s the first lesson of 2013. The process, the journey, all the learning and reaching for what seems so unattainable that’s what I want. One day, that ‘me’ will be a reality. Because she’ll be redeemed and heavenly.
But today it’s okay to see soaked bricks.
Who knows, maybe soon they’ll float up into a castle in the sky…