I worry I weigh three times my body. I worry I throw my fear around. Where is my calm?
Perhaps it is here, in this prayer I found on a website*. I am not sure whether the man on the website wrote this, or if some monk relishing the peace of solitude scribed it, but 'tis good:
Looking inward, I see that all too often I fail to use time and talent to improve myself and serve others. And yet there is in me a yearning to use my gifts for the well-being of those around me. Renew my vision, O God; give meaning to my life and substance to my hopes; help me to understand those about me and fill me with the desire to serve them. Let me remember that I depend on them as they depend on me; quicken my heart and hand to lift them up, and teach me to make my words of prayer fruitful by deeds of loving kindness. Amen.
This scripture comforts me and cautions me against holding my breath while I look within (which is something I believe I have a tendency to do). Allow me to elaborate...
I'm not a risk-taker by nature. Capricorns are cautious folks. Practical. Judgmental. Critical even. I am all these things, especially when I try not to be. I have difficulty justifying doing something that, as far as I can see, holds no value for me; no chance for growth; no light shed upon any meaning; no reason. And I must have reasons.
When I do take what I deem to be a risk it's like I'm a timid diver on the spring board: You know, you're supposed to do something like bounce, pike position your body and leave the board (forgive me, obviously am not a diver) and glide into the water? I am more like, bounce, pike, knee-lock bounce back onto the board, and flail arms that say, "wait!wait!wait! not ready yet! wait!"
If this were "Who moved my cheese?" I'd be the hemmer and the hawer - combined. But that would just lead to an analogy that could really derail what I'm trying to find the words to say...
Needless to say, I was working this job (that I clearly outlined in earlier posts as dead-end, lol) and I was miserable and even though I do know better to quit a job without another one completely lined up and ready to bat, I had to quit it because I was worrying that my hair would start falling out soon (and y'all know how long I've been growing out the hair...). The misery I felt was akin to James Caan's; my temp job was a Kathy Bates. I followed my patented steps to riskdom and I found that there was no value, no growth, no meaning, no reason. So I quit. And now I find myself in the dilemma I now wake up to daily:
Now what?! What was I thinking?! I mean, it is good that I quit, but some things that should've happened fell through at the last minute and I wound up stuck and unemployed. Here's what I was talking about: I was stuck and now I am stuck still. Still stuck. Whichever.
My point is, before I thought I was in a pit of quicksand, but now I wonder if I'm just wading through some wet cement.
I fear that I am not using my time wisely; that I'm running out of time; that I'm somehow behind. I fear that I am not cultivating my potential, I am not utilizing my talent. I see it in the eyes of my family, the people who've held the highest and greatest hopes (they keep asking in a nervous, joking way if I'm crazy), I hear it behind the earnest encouragement of you all, my closest, beloved chums...
I, too, yearn to use my gifts for the well-being of this world around me. I feel it needs me, and I am just trying to sort out the best way that I can help. And though I thrash and cry in angst, worry and frustration, I just had to let you know that I am trying...
*quote extracted from Mike Goot's profile at www.brainsonfire.com