Sunday meditation

Can I make a confession?

I almost never pay attention to the homily at church. I always seem to find something else that I "need" to be doing...either lists of tasks for the coming weeks, or updating my address book on my phone, or doing puzzles. Since I've never paid attention to sermons at church, and I don't go to the UU church for the homilies, I don't feel particularly bad about (though I try not to let other people catch me fecking off either LOL).

BUT. This morning, I happened to be sitting right next to a friend of mine - not a good friend, but someone I wish was a good friend (if that makes sense) - and I didn't want to her to see me doodling or doing puzzles during church, so I kind of sat and pretended to listen. At first I was just zoned out, like I've always been during lectures or sermons (I am so not an auditory learner!) but then I started thinking...and I realized that I spend a lot of time and energy specifically NOT thinking. Whenever I have a quiet minute at home, or still time at church, or time at a stoplight, I am always making sure that I am busy reading, or doing hanji, or fiddling around with something, specifically so that I am not thinking. It's a frightening thing for me to be present in my head and in my body, to pay attention to whatever feelings are stirring around in there. There is so much pain and so many tears tied up in there that I am afraid to even look at it.

This morning, I actually looked, with gentle curiousity, and gave my inner self a little time to speak, and listened, not to the minister, but to myself, and for once it didn't scare me at all. Perhaps it was the safety of the situation - knowing that I couldn't break down and cry (at least not without causing a scene) and knowing that the time was limited by how long Cynthia was going to speak. Perhaps I was just in the right space for contemplation this morning. Whatever it was, I found some peace this morning, and made a couple of realizations.

Most importantly, I realized that as unhappy as I often am in my life right now, and as restless as I am in my marriage, I don't really want anything or anyone else. I have built a good life here with many of the things that I always wanted; I have an amazing son and a husband I love and admire. I don't want to throw it all away to seek some nebulous "happiness" that I think might be out there somewhere...what I want is to be happy where I am. I want to find a way to make my current life work for me and satisfy me. I want to be in love with my husband, and have him give me that thrill that I keep being tempted to find elsewhere. I felt - all the way through my bones, and down to the middle of me - that I truly do want to be happy in the life that I have right here and now.

I don't know if I can fully describe the peace in that realization, or how happy and hopeful it made me feel, but it was about the best I've felt in weeks.

And then I came home with that, and interacted with my family, and realized that there are other things that have to happen. I don't want things exactly as they are now. I need more space for myself, and my family has to find ways to give it to me. And I want to be with my husband, and in love with my husband, but I need for him to be make changes too. I don't want to live with a man who is miserable in his life, who has only the grim determination to make it through another day and who only looks forward to the next run he's training for. I need him to find some joy in himself if I am to find joy with him.

I don't know yet how to tell him all of this, but despite the fact that I can't do it all myself, I feel more hopeful now that I have some idea of the direction I need to go. I feel more centered and less desperate than I have in weeks...what a blessing.

I may have to zone out in church more often LOL.