the art of falling ::

artist unknown.

i titled my last post reborn and shivering. it comes from the opening lyric of an alanis morrisette song which used to be a mantra of mine, back when i was learning boundaries for the first time.

reborn and shivering :: spat out on new terrain :: 

unsure, unconvincing :: this faint and shaky hour ... 

begin again, but this time i as i :: 

and not as we. ~ alanis 

reborn, and shivering.

Because the name “Christian” holds a lot of man-made labels that I’m breaking free from. I think we need to let ourselves break free from whatever labels are holding us back. Give ourselves the freedom to not be who we’ve told ourselves we HAVE to be for so long. Sure there is a danger that we will get off track. (Silently I may wonder, what if I become that estranged religious nut who falls into irreversible temptation?) But maybe a life worth living encounters terrible risks head on. Maybe that’s what it means to have faith. Maybe it hinges dangerously at all times between life and death. Maybe that’s exactly what we need. Maybe the people standing on the edge of the cliff and begging us not to jump and shaking their heads when we do, maybe they will never know that life to the fullest that Jesus has promised. Mandy Steward, Who I am Not

her words linger long. they're kind of triggery.

i mean, what kind of person would i be to let you destroy your life? if i see you running to the edge of a cliff, don't you want me to stop you? do you want to fall?

i have new eyes now. reborn. 

please, i whisper, shivering. yes.

please let me fall off the edge of this cliff.

the end of light

i read a quote in a church bulletin years ago. i cut it out and slipped it somewhere between psalms and lamentations.

When you come to the end of all the light you know and it’s time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly. (edward teller) 

the past few years have been a series of aerial pursuits for me, where, it seems, most of the time i am falling {flying}. and depending on who you ask, i either lie mangled on rocks below, or i am rooted strong in the palm of God.

i know that i am with him, clutched close. in this with-ness there is liberty, and in this liberty i am free to not be who i've told myself i should be. mandy steward writes: The “Who I Am Nots” reveal all the things we feel we owe to people to keep them happy. it also reveals where i have assaulted my own identity. it's humbling. and i feel surprisingly shy, shivering; a little soul-bare and vulnerable. like i'm letting you in on a secret. wanna know a secret?

:: i am not ::

• my messy house or cluttered desk.
• the dishes in my sink.
• the answers i don't know.
• the comfort you need.
• the happiness you need. 
• my extra curves.
• the perfect daughter. 
• the best friend.
• i am not my restlessness.
• my plants that hang all brown.
• the conservative you want me to be.
• there yet.
• i am not my shame.
• i am not sunny or sweet. 
• my perfectionism, frustration, or codependency.
• the diet i don't follow.
• the money i don't save.
• all the broken, weeping hearts i can't mend.
• the words i snap.
• i am not my questions.
• the feelings i hurt.
• the time i don't have. 
• i am not the way i let you down.

::
releasing myself from bondage
feels a lot like falling.
::
_____

extra: for a magnificent vocal and an exquisite, albeit unique aerial performance, view The Flying Man.

reborn and shivering ::

from my personal collection

these words speak to where i am on my personal journey:

I’ve been drowning for years in a world of “make me” and He has pulled me up out of those turbulent waters and set me down in the sunshine to bask in His love and grace and condemnation free sunlight. And I, quite honestly, am just enjoying the conversation, and the warmth, and the space to figure out what it even means to just be “me.” Dripping wet, angsty, pent-up, gasping for breath “me.” The me He created me to be, not the me Christianity created me to be. I don’t owe it to God to be a “Christian.” I owe it to God to listen to the truth of who He created me to be. ~ Mandy Steward, I'm Tired of Being a Christian, on Messy Canvas 

Because the name “Christian” holds a lot of man-made labels that I’m breaking free from. I think we need to let ourselves break free from whatever labels are holding us back. Give ourselves the freedom to not be who we’ve told ourselves we HAVE to be for so long. Sure there is a danger that we will get off track. (Silently I may wonder, what if I become that estranged religious nut who falls into irreversible temptation?) But maybe a life worth living encounters terrible risks head on. Maybe that’s what it means to have faith. Maybe it hinges dangerously at all times between life and death. Maybe that’s exactly what we need. Maybe the people standing on the edge of the cliff and begging us not to jump and shaking their heads when we do, maybe they will never know that life to the fullest that Jesus has promised. Steward, Who I am Not

this.
this.
this.

parable of a bird in the cage ::

To the gypsy that remains

She faces freedom with a little fear

I have no fear, I have only love...

gypsy, stevie nicks 

some people are like a bird frozen in an open cage, comfortable with what they've always known, talons atrophied where they rest. they truly believe that to leave the cage means to fall ... perhaps because whenever they've tried to leave before, to fly and change and make a difference, they've fallen.

it gets wearisome to fall every time.

it hurts, and each time you're just a little more broken and tired. each time a little more life seeps away, and sometimes all you've got left is what keeps you gripped for dear life on that little bar in the open cage.

i am a bird without a cage. 

i can come and go and enter other cages and rest with resting birds, but i can't make them go out. i can't make them unclench their talons. i can tell them what it's like and what i've learned, but i can't make them spread their wings. i can offer support, but i can't carry them.

i can just be there being my free self.

and with my freedom i can both fly for myself and join them in their cages.
i can bring them food.
i can do their laundry and sing to them.
i can fly out to become lost in the wind and fly back to tell them about the sunset. and when they get mad and don't want to hear about my beautiful sunset, i can sit there in silence. or fly out again and find someone else to tell about the sunset.
i can come back to the cage with a fresh cup of water and a soft wing and i can fly out again to flock with other free birds.

i do not know this artist. help me?

and if they see me flying around and get mad that i can fly but they can't or don't want to, or think they shouldn't or think i shouldn't, i can have compassion.

i can go fly where they can't see me.
but even free birds can only fly so far before that's as far as they can go.

we all have limitations imposed by responsibilities, by vows, by daily realities and core beliefs. i can resist or i can see these things ~ with thankfulness ~ as creative challenges to shape who i am, to fashion my world. for within them the whole world is mine. what do i have? what are they? how can i work with them and not against them? because barring supernatural intervention, they aren't going  away. i can't up and move wherever i'd like. i can't change others' habits. i cannot make my home larger or my bones smaller. i cannot make others happy.
 
how can i accept without giving up?
how can i be content without growing apathetic?
how can i honor significant others without caging myself?
::

intimate ::

i don't like to pray out loud
in front of people.

i'm also not a 'witnesser'.

faith, she is a quiet warmth that spills like sunlight.

so i just try to live and love.

of course, though, i'd feel guilty when passing on prayer, or when i'd stammer out quiet, brief words of thanks and bless and help us ... inadequate beside others well-gifted in the audible art of talking to God.

but me,
i'm shy.

it wasn't until talking to my friend
(whose little boy is like this too)
that i realized what it is that stammers me, and i finally gave myself permission to embrace the truth that, for me, prayer

is like

the soul undressing.

and i,
i wear this velvet dress.