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

Growing and Cutting

Look at this little ol' blog! IT'S OCTOBER, for goodness sake!

So my last post, in JANUARY I talked about it being a good year. Now that the year is winding down and nearly over, I can return and report that it has, indeed, been a good year.

First, we finally made it out of the Hobbit Hole. We're so happy. What was supposed to be six months turned into six months plus a year. :) I feel like we are living and breathing again and connected to the sunshine, weepy branches filled with leaves, warm October breezes, and growing things. It has truly been a blessed relief. We have a pretty little yard with happy little gardens.

Second, I cut my hair off for my 33rd birthday! Scary and super fun. I love it, and I miss it (when I look at pictures of it long), and I love it. Everyone should have boy-hair at least once in their life. It's awesome.

Third, the girls are back in school. Another blessed relief. I loved our year of homeschooling. It was absolutely one of the best decisions I've ever made. It reconnected me to my children and taught me so many things about them and myself. We were able to travel and immerse ourselves in the world around us. When we went on trips, we didn't have to be back in three days and we spent days at the lake, the river, the dam, the park, the ghost town, the beach, the woods, the mountains. I LOVED IT. But as the school year wound down and I started to look forward, I just didn't feel the same as I had twelve months before. Where I'd felt invited to take the road less traveled the year before, I just didn't feel it anymore. I felt like it was time for new adventures - so we headed over to the District Offices and signed them back up for public school.

Lastly, I no longer have cancer! So now all is right in the world. The end.

...

Joking, not joking. Jokes: not going to leave it at that. Not joking: was diagnosed with rectal cancer this summer.

After months of gastrointestinal issues that I thought were screwy gut flora + possible hemorrhoids, I finally went to the doctor in May and got scheduled for a colonoscopy on July 1st. What we thought would be a quick procedure followed by some temporary meds turned into "you have a large tumor" and "it's cancer" followed by appointments with the oncologist and surgeon and colorectal resection surgery all within a week and a half. The tumor was biopsied and classified as Stage I / early Stage II rectal cancer - with everything contained to that one area = lucky me = no chemo or radiation, just a lifetime of regular colonoscopies (lucky me).

I'll probably write more about it another time, but I am doing well and my family is doing well.

It was a hard summer and a scary summer, but at this point, I feel nothing but overwhelming gratitude. I feel so thankful that it was manageable. I feel so thankful for the experiences that the Lord has given me over the past few years that have helped me to know that even if the tumor had been worse, even if it had spread, it would still be okay. I feel so grateful for the gift of trials and a loving Father who knows how to give his children good gifts.

As this year is winding down and turning cool once again, I feel overwhelmed with joy for the life that I live. It's been another year filled with lots of growth.

Life is hard and life is so, so good.

January 2

Hmmmm. I don't know how I feel about all that 2015 holds.

FIFTEEN? years since I graduated high school? thirteen years since I met Nels? Hazel will turn 12? Lilie 10? Elsie will be 8 and baptized? Violet will start Kindergarten and my baby is going to turn FOUR?

I don't know how I feel about 2015...

One year ago exactly, we moved to Pullman. So while I've been looking ahead at this new year, I've spent even more time looking backward - sifting through to figure out what I've learned and what I'd like this new year to be. This post reminds me of why 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. It feels messy. This post is messy, but I'll try my best to write some things that are real.

New Year's Eve 2013 I spent the day alone. Nels and the girls had left two days earlier - his first day at the new job had been the 30th. Movers in and out all day and our things getting wrapped into random boxes. I was so exhausted physically and emotionally that I fell asleep repeatedly as I sat watching them, pretending to read a book and trying to stay out of the way. Afterward, I quickly finished cleaning our empty home and deposited our remaining keys in the rental office drop-box so that I could make the 3 hour drive down to Colfax to ring in the new year with my family.

I cried and cried as I crossed the Long Bridge. As our Sandpoint chapter closed.

Throughout the three hour, tear-filled, foggy drive from Sandpoint, I prayed. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for a new job, but I didn't like Pullman. It was hard for me to again leave years of social investment. We were going to be downgrading our living space again. And we were leaving beautiful Sandpoint for a windy, rolling, brown place. The year-round beauty of Sandpoint had carried me through the hardest years of my life. To leave was pain.

Just before dropping into the hollow where Tom and Tracy live, I turned off my car on the top of an impossibly quiet hill, far from city lights, surrounded by frozen fields, and just above the fog that had enveloped me the entire drive and I pleaded.

Please . . .

And the Lord answered. I cried and I know I was heard. I didn't get the feeling that this year would be simple or that all my worries would just fall away, but I knew that I had a Father that heard me and understood. And really, that's what I needed.

With my hand on the key and ready to cover the last mile of transition to our new lives, I looked up and saw the brightest falling star and I made a wish that this move would be good for us.

Has it been good? Yes, but - good does not always equal rainbows and butterflies. In fact, good usually equals Hard Work. Also, I don't think that one year is enough time to put into perspective all that's come with this move.

If I were to describe 2014 in a word, it would probably be: Disconnected.    

An uncomfortable feeling, but probably better than INSANE or CHAOTIC or FRUSTRATED which could have been used to describe previous years, so . . . there's that. :)

Two things I've learned and am going to be working on this coming year:

1. Being connected to the physical world around me is vitally important to my emotional health. In Sandpoint, this was SO EASY. Every season was beautiful and there was always something to explore. I long for it and feeling this disconnect has really made me question whether or not Pullman can be our home forever. It's time for me to fall in love again. This year I plan to spend more time experiencing the area and finding us a place to live where we feel connected to the earth. No more Hobbit House in the ground - it's sucking the life out me.

2. Being connected to the people around me and finding ways to serve is vitally important to my emotional health. I would say that as an adult woman the single hardest thing about moving is losing a sense of place, of community - of someone knowing me and needing me. I don't want to be busy just for the sake of being involved. I don't want to be busy at all. No, I just want to feel needed - not to be a body filling a role, but to be Rachel doing what I do best (whatever that is). This is something that takes TIME and EFFORT and then more TIME. This year, I'm going to pray and then look for opportunities to serve and be connected. I need physical friends.


I don't exactly know how to wrap up this messy/weird post, but it's going to be a GOOD year. I can feel it.

I'm thankful for another year to grow and to watch my children grow. I'm looking forward to feeling more connected to the world and people around me, to my Nels and my kids, to my Heavenly Father and to myself.

Sick

Violet got sick. A fever and tired for days with no other symptoms. Now she's got a sore throat and Elsie is coughing. This morning I caught it and stayed home from Preston's grad party. I thought maybe Violet's brain kiss made me feel a little better, then I looked in the mirror and realized I was wrong. 

Friday's Fabulous Five

1. It's less than two weeks from Christmas and I've already finished ONE (x five) project on my "make" list. I even wrapped it (them). Now, only 7,000 more to go. :) In seriousness, I am nearly finished with five pj shirts and I'm feeling pretty awesome. 

2. I started a Book Club in my ward a few months ago. I'm so pleased with myself for pushing outside my comfort zone that I can hardly contain myself. This month we are reading "Little Women" - one of my all time favorites books. I was getting worried that it wouldn't get read, as I spend all my free evenings in front of the sewing machine, when I remembered that on one of the homeschool forums I read someone mentioned a site called Librivox, where there are free public domain audiobooks. Tonight I spent a decent chunk of time pinning, serging, and crying. What's not to love about a book that makes you cry with humility, sadness, joy, humor, and understanding?

3. Homeschool is going well and I'm so impressed with my own little women's progress. I struggle daily with mastering our rhythm and routine, but I expected that and life is a work in progress. My girls are starting to understand better the work of keeping our home running and help with their share with little complaining. The big girls are more than 70 lessons into their math book and Elsie can now read almost anything with a. Bit of work. I'll have to write more about it later, but despite being ready to lock myself in my room some days, it's going well and the girls enjoy it.

(the best helicopters and airplanes I've ever seen)

4. Lilie's arm and nerves are healing! Slowly, but it's happening. She's just started physical therapy and nearly cried when the PT massaged her elbow on Tuesday, however, he looks like Ben Affleck and I think she'd do just about anything he asked her to do. :)

5. We bought a fake, prelit tree. The Saturday after Thanksgiving, I spent the morning shut up in my bedroom weeping huge tears of failure and resignation. I was raging mad at Nels for bringing up the dry reminder of Christmas trees past and wept bitterly. An hour later, I emerged red-nosed and declared that I could not live another year of coniferous demise and bit the (truly) evergreen bullet. I love it and haven't been sad about it even once since.