Wednesday, March 5, 2008

different drummer blues

Why? Oh why am I forced by my own nature to always, but always, color outside the lines? Why does my own drummer have such a syncopated beat? Why can't I just do like everybody else? Why must I always do things differently? I'm tired of always having to work so hard to do what most people never give a thought to.

Yeah, I'm committed to living my life as long as I am able without a car. I feel called to make this a part of my testimony and feel right about this decision. But geez, I'm tired; my ankle hurts, my muscles are sore and my knees and hips ache from the miles I walked yesterday (and I'll be taking the kids to homeschooling this afternoon so we'll be walking and riding the bus again in a couple of hours). I left my house at 9:30 yesterday to work, walked miles in the rain (schlepping my work/computer bag and my winter coat with me because the temperature was supposed to drop) to a couple of my cases and returned home at 2:30 in order to grab Zed and Carmac and run back to the bus stop to go to aikido.

Homebirth, cloth diapers, extended breastfeeding, family bed, homeschooling, recycling, living frugally and simply, trying to avoid too much media, trying to help my children be aware of the bombardment of marketing, governmental propaganda and cultural norms which are useless or even harmful. And now living without a car. I'm always swimming upstream. I'm always struggling against the flow. My calls to live an examined life usually result in a considerable amounts of sacrifice and discomfort-physical, financial, emotional sacrifice and discomfort. Usually I have righteous indignation to fuel me but I feel tapped out, dry; exhausted (pity my poor husband who only has his love for me to sustain him).

It happened as I struggled through the rain with my very heavy computer bag down a cobble-stone street in my clogs (after having twisted my ankle as I moved quickly to avoid getting hit by a car on my street). Generally, rainy, cold, unpleasant weather doesn't bother me too much (except heat-I really do not like it too hot). As a matter of fact, I often take a kind of perverse pleasure in inclement weather, priding myself on my ability to not mind it. But yesterday was too much. I'm in the rain, struggling with the wind and my umbrella and I just thought: "WHY? Why do I put myself through this kind of discomfort and inconvenience? Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I just be like everybody else and not think so hard and work so hard and make everything a challenge for myself and against our culture at large?!"

I just don't know right now.

I need to hear something to sustain me. I need inspiration; a message of encouragement. I need to be affirmed for these crazy, stupid choices I make to live right.


Liz Opp said...

Mary Linda--

I sent the link to this post to a Friend in the monthly meeting where I worship. You and he seem to be ordering your life around similar concerns... and running into a few frustrations every now and then.

I hope he'll stop by and give you some encouragement. Maybe he'll receive some encouragement as well!

...I can tell you that a conversation that I had with him recently, about the need to completely change our behavior around use of cars/fossil fuels, is in fact working on my heart, even if my outward behaviors don't show it.

My guess is that there's a Friend or two who are taking note of what you are doing and are beginning to review their own choices and behaviors.

We seldom know what seeds are being planted; we can only hope to know that we are being faithful and obedient, and let our lives preach.

Liz Opp, The Good Raised Up

Friendly Mama said...

I trust Spirit and generally look forward with enthusiasm rather than backward with regret. Sometimes though, my day (/week) is just bad enough that to vent is the best way to deal with it. Truly, I feel the choices I've made/am making are a calling and a powerful part of my testimony. I know this is part of God's plan for me; even the challenges and frustrations and feelings of these choices being "a drop in the ocean". You're so right: We don't know what what kind of soil our seeds are falling on.
Thank you so much for your support, Liz.