My mind sometimes gets ahold of a particular concept or idea that tumbles around, causing a monumental amount of restlessness at often rather inconvenient times. Today this beautiful annoyance popped out of nowhere right around the time my body was ready to hit the hay. Alas, my mental wheels kept churning – so here I am sitting on an uncomfortable bathroom floor of our flat about to address an even more uncomfortable amount of baggage in my life.
Listening to a women’s conference session by one of my favorite authors Shauna Niequist, she addressed the fears many women have about pursuing their closet dreams. She made a comment about how men often come to her with plans, resumes, forecasts and goals while women trembling whisper the deepest desires of their hearts. As I heard this observation, I immediately wrote it off as inapplicable to myself. Goodness knows, I tend to be over headstrong and relentless in chasing after what I want. Example A: me being married at 20… Just kidding (kind of). Yet, a couple hours later I found that message still dwelling inside me questioning “D’Ann, what is your forgotten dream? Is there something you are still too scared to do for the sake of once you say it out loud there is no turning back?”
Now, let’s talk about my baggage. We all have these loads of hidden dark secrets or scars from the past we tend to rarely refer to and often address in a third person manner. For me, this boggart (http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Boggart) most commonly takes shape in self-loathing. For years, I have battled with personal perfection and consequence often taking the shape of full force physical or mental anorexia. Similar to majority of sins or closet insecurities, this monster is addictive, destructive, isolating and a lifelong disease. Whatever the brew of your particular sin: Pornography. Alcoholism. Binge eating. Pride seeking. Lying. Idolatry. We never truly overcome these alone. In Christ, we are redeemed and no longer slave to the forces of evil around and inside us – but in my experience the roots of each are deep seeded and not leaving us anytime soon. We have a choice in what voices we listen to and what words we allow to have power in us. In my life, personal ignorance or oblivion to these thresholds in my life only fuels the flame and power of the force. Thankfully, I have overcome the mainly physical aspects of anorexia. But each and everyday, the mental battle rages on. Just a mere week before my wedding, I remember trying on that stupid wedding dress and bawling because I despised the reflection. Innocent comments from the ones I loved stung like arrows and sin twisted my moment of the “first look” into “first loathe”. I wish I could say those reservations about the dress disappeared on the wedding day, but that’s a lie. Fortunately, I’m learning to not be ashamed of being open. It’s okay to not be okay . For I know, I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalms 193:14), loved unconditionally by the most powerful and high King (1 John 4:9). Ingraining these daily truths into my noggin, my soul slowly becomes less fearful of openness and honesty. Because at the end of the day, that’s pain’s side effect – utter isolation. Once we feel alone or dirty or unable to become clean, we are easily defeated.
*insert cutesie photo to break the tension*
Here’s the point of this blog post; I have drug my feet for YEARS on committing to routine blogging. Writing is purely for me as a way to stay connected to a form of art and document the things I feel where and when I feel them. Life for me is much easier when skimmed by quickly and forgotten about. Today I chose not to live easy but strive for my forgotten dream. Expand this lil guy into a more full extension of self has always been somewhat a dream, portraying life in whichever season I am living. The fear crippling me from a commitment to do…well…just about anything in my life I’ve started…boils down to my insecurity and expectation for perfection. What if I don’t like the Annie from a few years ago or what she looked like or what if I have to walk through some really poopy seasons and later have detailed documentation of those nightmares or what if I fail. (Here’s the real kicker though, you can’t really fail at journaling/blogging anymore than not participating. Which I routinely fall into basically every month, so there’s really no reason to fear failure). So here I am, putting my dream in writing. I am going to allow my mind to be creative with this blog, faithfully experimenting whilst crossing out failure as an option or fear as an excuse!