At 28 I thought I would have more or less of life figured out. By the time I turned 30 I envisioned I would have it all together. My life would be straightforward and purposeful.

Life isn’t.

Life as it appears is incredible messy and complicated.

We are managing our lives with ‘to do’ lists and bills to pay, meetings to attend and emails to write. We manage our diets and our bedsheets. We keep on moving all the while carrying so many things in our life. Lugging around all the words and aspersions anyone has ever cast on us, with no place, it feels, to lay them down.

Where do you place the questions you carry?

The heartache and the joy? Your quiet worries? Where can you let yourself spill over into truth as messy and new and raw as it sometimes feels?

One of the hardest thing in life I believe, is laying down all those things that we carry. All those desperate attempts to save our selves from heartache, idleness and self contempt. We cover our true and messy selves with as much charisma and articulation we can muster. We carefully build a glamorous window into our life for others to see and hope people are happy to window shop. And we have become experts at keeping them out.

I believe we must begin to unravel ourselves. We must unwind the tight little ball we have worked ourselves into and release it to God, knowing He will not solve all our problems straight away but He is in the process of untangling who we are becoming.

At 28 years old I am realising life is a rather messy place but I am learning that that’s ok.

I am not aiming for a pretty life, I am aiming for release.

behind
closed doors
where they
tenderly kiss.

Do it now.
Do it now.

Step forth
before the moment disappears.

The feeling can be the most exhilarating thing in the world but firstly one needs to find the wave, and then secondly be able to catch it. Both of these also require some skill. This has led me to the conclusion that if writing was what I did to earn a living, I would in fact not be able to pay my bills. And I can completely forget about pro surfing for that matter as well.

I do actually enjoy writing. I like the meditative nature of it. The in and out, the twisting and turning, the typing and deleting of vague thoughts into actuality. Its all very therapeutic.

But so many things stand in the way. They purposely distract me from the stillness, from focus. Sleep, TV, Facebook, work. They cry out for attention like a baby that needs to be fed. Some days I just can not bring myself to write anything.

The thought of having to think and to articulate tires me. I sit at my computer well intentioned, with all the right tabs open and its like having ADD. I’ll remember that I haven’t scooped the cat litter today, I should call the dentist or I’ll think about the last conversation I had and daydream what it would of been like if I had said something funnier or wittier. Or even vaguely helpful.

I’ve been reading ‘Bird by bird’ by Anne Lamott and she recommends breaking the task down. Just write about one thing, write one paragraph and that’s all you need to attempt. Just get something down. Don’t worry if its messy, incoherent or rambling. Just get it down and fix it later. Messiness is what first drafts are for. So this, I am going to try.

~ Anne Lamott

Co-written with jameslow.com

Outside my window beyond tall buildings I watched the sunrise and puffy clouds turn from gray to white.

For the first time in a long time I heard only silence and soft twitter of the first birds.

And in that moment I felt He was here beside me watching the sunrise, and I did not feel so alone.

~ Sabrina Ward Harrison

There is a greatness in you.

Courage. Desire. Integrity.

Virtue. Compassion.

Dignity. Loyalty. Love.

Its in there –

somewhere.

And sometimes

it takes suffering

to get at it.

Its in there.

~ Rob Bell, Drops like Stars.

]]> http://www.annatsang.com/2009/12/its-in-there/feed/ 0 http://www.annatsang.com/2009/12/speak/ http://www.annatsang.com/2009/12/speak/#comments Fri, 11 Dec 2009 16:40:53 +0000 Anna http://www.annatsang.com/?p=858 To say that life is hard right now, I think, would be an understatement.

I find myself wanting to write about whats been churning within me but my thoughts are unclear. Confused in my head. Muddled. They are mixtures of emotion and chastising reason. Unsure and often unkind. But I guess this is a start.

Sometimes I find it hard to speak.

Sometimes I wonder if I tried to explain, if you would even understand.

Instead, I have been finding solace in the reflective words of Henri Nouwen, in the encouragement of Jimmy, and in the loving embrace of James as we sit in parks and look out into the harbor.

God is doing something. And its deeper than ever before.