i had a dream last night that i was eaten alive by fruit flies. i was married and trying to help console a friend in the middle of the night. upon returning to my bed and my husband, i discovered a trail of ants in the sheets that suddenly turned into fruit flies and attacked me, biting and itching until there was no more of me left. it was those little tiny things that killed me. i woke up disturbed, the light outside still dark.
before sleep last night, i spent a glamorous night on the town with ten beautiful women for a birthday party. all fancied up with our high heels on, we were the epitome of youth and beauty and vibrance. well, they were. in comparison to so much womanhood, i felt like a little girl pretending. too skinny, too awkward, not the right outfit, the wrong hair and a bad sexy face (you will have to ask them about that), how did i fit in? one of them, newly married mrs jones, explained her engagement and marriage to me. she is just my age, i think, but seemed so much more in stature and confidence. as i looked around, i felt each woman, single, married or dating, held such beauty in who they were, unique and exuberant, all their outsides communicated an easy grace and a fitting in. i will feel this way from time to time, and more so as i get older... but last night, in comparison, i did not.
and its that little thing of comparison that's been killing me, i realize. in comparison to women who are married, i am alone. in comparison to people who have travelled extensively, i am static. in comparison to my college friends, i am a square. in comparison to the adventurous, i am mundane. in comparison to the brave, i am weak and fearful. in comparison to the on-the-town, i am at home. in comparison to the real missionaries, i am comfortable.
in these comparisons, life sometimes feels a race where i didnt realize we were supposed to leave the start line awhile ago.
but, in the grand narrative, the real reality, i am not responsible to be anyone other than what i am. in all this comparison, i am losing sight of this person, this girl, this woman my creator intended. in comparison, i have tried to acquire things and ways that i am not.
i am not eaten alive by small things, but they are itching at me.
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3 comments:
powerful. heavy. but but but but-- from the outside, from the outside, YOU are - you ARE - YOU ARE what no adjective can adequately describe... you are uniqueness of beauty and complexity on steroids. ... but the fruit flies... ants and fruit flies are attracted to something that is sweet, and end up rotting it... i hope that the life sweetness which you HAVE won't be rotted or inflicted by flies, whatever they might be. :)
You are incomparable. :) Nice new background, BTW.
Scratch the itch. Scratch it.
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