end of still

Posted on Updated on

standing still

This latest move doesn’t feel like a transition. It feels like an alternate universe.

Somewhere in the recesses of my memory is a life before. But that life seems foreign and distant, like a dream.

Sometimes I am shaken with the realization that I really did it. I really quit the job I loved and packed up and moved to a new house in a new state to take a new job, again. After dreaming of living in this place for so long, it seemed like an impossibility. Yet here it is. I am living it.

This course of drastic change seems so stark compared to the life before.

Just months earlier, I stood in airport in some city somewhere for the 20th time last year. Announcements echoed through the corridor, funneling people into lines that led to seats that led to flights to faraway places. Suitcase wheels buzzed around me as rivers of people wearing scarves and holding Starbucks cups and talking on cell phones flowed through the hallways.

I stood like rock in that river, as people moved to bump and splash on either side. I felt as though that moment was a little analogous to the life I was living.

Everywhere were birth announcements and engagements and job changes and life events. I seemed to be in the midst of that steady stream of change, standing, unmoved. I watched the metamorphosis of many a friend go from single to engaged to married to motherhood. Years passed as these events took course in their lives, one after another after another.

That day in the airport, as I looked back, it was if I had been watching a time lapse video of their lives in motion. And all the while, amid the flurry, I stood still.

Then something shifted. It was so slight at the beginning. Like a boulder that has sat perched on a crux, motionless for years. Then some internal, unseeable settling sends it rolling. I felt it in my core one day — that shift — and knew the tumble was coming.

From my spinning viewpoint at the center of it, I watched my world morph into something new. Here I am, at a conclusion and a new beginning. And finally, at the end of still.

Advertisements

One thought on “end of still

    Spokane BOMB said:
    June 22, 2015 at 11:36 am

    One of my favorite authors once said, “I gave my life to become the person I am right now. Was it worth it?” I think we’ll all face that question many times throughout our lives as our decisions — some weighty and huge, some rather small — become the gateway to that alternate universe you sense presently, while the path not chosen fades into non-existence. How do we know which way is “right” or “best?” Even Robert Frost wished he could travel both of the roads that diverged before him in the yellow wood.
    As a Christian, I’ve learned to consider these transition points more in terms of entering a new season rather than arriving at a destination, for all of life is a transitory, moment-by-moment existence… and the illusion of standing still is exactly that, an illusion. When decisions loom and you come to the end of the evidence for or against making a particular choice, the bridge to the other side must be a proverbial leap of faith, not knowing for certain what awaits you there, nor completely what you are leaving behind. But walking with Christ for 14+ years has taught me two critical lessons: When in faith I make the best decision I can, prayerfully entrusting the results to Him, the affirmations generally follow; and while the outcome — that elusive “destination” we choose — is certainly important, it’s usually the process of getting there, or even making the decision in the first place, that’s more important.
    New beginnings are exciting and terrifying, full of potential and often times fear. Only by walking in faith have I learned to embrace this often-broken life with optimism and hope, and thrive in boldly leaving behind the person I was to become instead who I am. If it sometimes feels like a death, it often is. Surrendering to Christ is probably the best example of that… and the glory of this new, resurrected life is all the more beautiful because of what it cost. I had the easy part. He paid the price in full.
    Welcome to your new life!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s