Wonder

Oh the broken-hearted
spinning and mutation
of dreams:
Trampled.

Boxed in and boxed
OUT
with red tape
and raised eyebrows:
Disconnected.

Reaching outside myself
with gentle tendrils
of fragile, vulnerable:
Hope.

They are squashed
hacked off
beaten back
surgecally removed:
Disappointment.

Why oh why
all this
soul-less wandering:
Misery.

Retreating for miles
- and possibly an outcast -
I dive into my old selves
and return with something valuable:
Basics.







I have always felt a little.... estranged. Like if most of humanity is 'on the same page', I am in another book written in a different language. I have been blessed with many gifts and talents and I have a curiosity and imagination that had remained thus far unriveled - even the children I have spent time with are loosing their ability to pretend and be in wonder. It makes me sad.

I have found that I cannot live on to-do lists and assignments and expectations - even when I supplement with going to church and doing Bible studies regularly and I am growing in God. I have a need to return to the basics. If I don't, I drown. I need to take walks and go on hikes and marvel at the outdoors. I need to plant things and watch them grow. I need to pull away from technology and write with a quill by candlelight. I need to turn off the music and spend time alone in the quiet and rest. I need to have a deam that I am preparing for. I need to drink hot tea instead of energy drinks and dance in the rain instead of hide under an umbrella. I need to wonder about things and go look up the answers. These are the things that keep me alive.

Not the breathing kind of alive, but the kind of alive that sparkles. The kind of alive that makes me laugh when nothing is particularly funny, but I am just so happy that I NEED to laugh out loud. The kind of alive that inspires me to change myself. The kind of alive that causes me to create. The kind of alive that draws me back to love.

People have been telling me that this is the part of my life where I have to grow up and act like an adult. Hmmm. Adults... They don't smile much. Have you noticed that? I mean, besides that polite little smile that they have been trained to give, andthat tired smile that says 'I've had a loooooong day', and that smirk when they hear the latest gossip. I mean a REAL smile. The kind that people have when they fall in love, or are ridiculously happy. The kind of smile that says "Hey you: I'm alive!" They rub their forheads, temples, and faces - always a headache. And they gray hair they say comes for from where? Stress. No thank you.

I am a child of God. I am His beloved, His daughter, His warrior princess. I find my identity in Christ, and I am satisfied. I want to grow in His grace and under his refinement - I promise He knows what He's doing. I want to become more and more His child; not more and more an adult of this world.

This is not to say in any way that I want to shirk all responsibilities and just 'love' all the time, like the hippies suggest, and worry about the here and the now. I have plans. I have a future. I take things seriously - sometimes TOO seriously! - and I know how to think things through and make good choices.

I simply miss the days when child-like wonder was acceptable, and I am scrambling to get back to that state.