I don’t usually do two “Musical Meditations” in one week, but this week is different, and this song is totally worth it.
For King & Country is one of my new favorite groups, and their song Middle Of Your Heart just started playing on Pandora, as if on cue for the soundtrack of my life. This is a great little lyric video:
I literally had just gotten off the phone with a friend of mine after a chat about the transitional state I’m in right now. I’m letting go of 20 years or more of self-rejection and the accompanying sadness that goes along with feeling those feelings before finally releasing them. The last 24 hours have been filled with enlightening revelations: first, that I cannot and no longer want to replace the people I’ve loved and lost. I’m sure most “normal” people understand this intuitively, but it has taken me a quarter of a century to learn this simple lesson. My tactic for relief had always been using one relationship after another to fill a void, or using volunteering, work, politics, video games (yes, video games!), and “drama” to keep me distracted from my feelings. I’m not beating myself up about it, but I do have to call a spade a spade; I was doing the best I could at the time. But today, and for the past several weeks, I’ve just felt so SAD, missing people that I’ve loved, mourning the mistakes I made with people who loved me that I completely misinterpreted and even rejected. But I can’t change the past, and there are no takebacks. And for the first time in my life, I don’t want to try to “fix” it by getting into something or someone new. This is progress! I’m maturing!
Another revelation is about the nature of the hole I’ve been trying to fill. It’s not a hole left by a relationship with someone else. I had always assumed that my pattern of serial monogamy was about the fear of being alone, or not being able to handle when a relationship (or even a job or a stage in life) met its natural end. No, the hole in this holey heart of mine is the emptiness that has been left each time I rejected myself, little by little over the course of my life. I’ve stubbornly refused to accept myself as I am and offer that self to God. In refusing to accept myself, I have rejected and lost myself. I’ve withheld myself even from the God in whom I profess to believe. The person I’m mourning is the perfectly imperfect me that I’ve tossed away, minimized, controlled, tormented, abused, hidden, and hated.
Today’s most recent revelation is that other people are noticing what a funk I’ve been in. When people who barely know me ask if I’m okay, I know it must be bad. And I’m not someone who wants to walk around with my heart on my sleeve. I want to pull myself up by the bootstraps and look strong, capable, happy, and “together.” Apparently, you all can see through my ruse. I do not feel comfortable with this. I feel naked. I feel vulnerable. But when I took this feeling to God in prayer, He very plainly told me that this is a good thing, because it means I’m being authentic.
So here I am with my bag of revelations – the truth about my self-rejection, the grief I’m finally allowing myself to feel (instead of self-medicating it away with people, places and things), and the vulnerability of knowing you are seeing me at my messiest right now.
I’m entirely ready. I know. And those who understand what this means know that everything I’m experiencing right now is cause for great joy. They know I’m on the journey into the very heart of the power that can save me and restore what is lost.