The End of the Runway

"What you've been doing for the last six years, is that you've been increasing and picking up speed, you're still a little bit on the runway. You're accelerating toward something. But now, that gnawing feeling that you have, that feeling of 'being stuck', is telling you that you're done with the runway. You're done. You needed it. It's beautiful. Thank it. It got you moving. And now you're racing down the runway and if you don't do the lift-off right now, you're going to crash your plane into a bunch of houses on the other side of the highway. . . . And you couldn't have done it if you didn't have those six years of build up." -- Elizabeth Gilbert in an episode of her "Magic Lessons" podcast

(August 2011) "I feel like I've been smashing down all relevant feelings because they do THIS to me. I've been avoiding the questions - and to some extent productive actions - because when I don't, I can't sleep and I feel really overwhelmed. It's so much easier to not think about."

(November 2011) "Sometimes I feel like I don't even recognize my life."

(January 2012) "I read through my words from yesteryear and can remember who I was then. I am amazed at how it feels so effortless. Who is that girl? Where did she go? Will I ever see her again? I miss Home."

(May 2012) "I've had this crazy underlying tension, always lying in wait for when I get too tired or too hormonal or . . . something. My problem is that, like a chemical reaction or a math equation, I seem to think that I'm going to figure it out some day. I can't to do it and it's making me crazy."

(January 2013) "...more than any one of those things, I want to feel happy. I want to feel peace in my own skin and in my own life. And it's difficult for me to figure out how to reconcile failed desires and how to feel happy with ME."

(July 2013) "I've always written pretty honestly on my blog, but even with my openness there are still parts of myself that I guard pretty fiercely and whose existence I don't always like to admit to, even with myself. It's been scary for me to explore these areas, but I've come to see that they are the answer to my question. I feel as though the past two years have been filled with pruning. When contemplating our move to Sandpoint two years ago, I imagined the future and myself to be different than they are today. At times I have felt a mourning cry from within. 'How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth and now you've cut me down.' I have mourned for that feeling of home and stability. I have mourned for the relationship that I once had with the Lord. I have mourned for the vision that I had of me."

(November 2013) "As I sat down just now, the Post Screen felt foreign to me --- wondering what it is that is inside. What is it I want to share? I don't even know."

(July 2014) "I think my brain got jammed up with "heavy" the last few years and before I can open it back up, I'm going to have to unload some of my weightier thoughts in written form. These bigger, denser thoughts all kind of string together and don't allow me to package them into the neat little parcels that I've enjoyed in the past. I have to find a new way of writing."

(January 2015) "I haven't written much in the last few years: it's really hard to sift out what's relevant and true while so much change is taking place."

I'm so thankful for this little blog; for this place where I can revisit and remember nearly ten years of Rachel. A place where I can see growth. A place where I can see the happy and hopeful and peaceful and joy-filled Rachel. A place where I can also see (between the lines) the depressed and anxious and angry and exhausted Rachel. I wish I could have written that girl better. As I revisit the years, I see her in glimpses, like the ones above, but the truth is I didn't know her. I've only more recently come to accept her and begin to understand her. "You can't give people what you don't have."

If I had to give a title to the last five+ years it would be, Part 1: The Slow and Steady Unraveling of Rachel. It's been a hugely painful and annoying story for me, but I'm finding that what I'm left with is just Me. I don't fully know this Rachel, but I'm not scared of what I'm going to discover either. I feel like "Part 1" is closing and it's time for me to understand it and share it, because "Part 2" is beginning. I'm at the end of the runway and part of Lift I need (so that all of this work doesn't leave me smashed into the houses) is to own this story and write it down.

"We can't chart a new course until we find out where we are, how we came to that point and where we want to go." ~ Brene Brown