I'm having one of those days when I physically feel like I'm seconds away from speaking to a crowd of 10,000 people. That awful, anxious feeling that often leaves me disoriented and with no direction. I want to do something important. I want to accomplish. I want to make things happen and I am crippled by anxiety and about all I can do is write this post.
The things I plan out in my head--the things I see happening, because so many have taught me to visualize what I want and it will come to fruition--are just not happening. This makes me feel like a loser and a dreamer and a schemer and I believe most of the time that others see me this way. I am the silly old woman who thinks that wonderful things are going to one day happen. As my mother always said, "The sun's gonna shine on your back door someday." But right now, it is dark. So dark I cannot see the solutions that I still naively continue to believe are right in front of me.
Today I feel like a great big cosmic joke and someone is laughing at my expense. "Look at her--she's pathetic! Will she never learn?"
My wants are so simple and sublime and some of them are actually looking good. But the most pressing ones--the ones with deadlines--are not going to happen and all I can do is sit and cry and write this blog that very few will read.
Some could come through for me with charity not knowing that all of the charity has accumulated into this huge, solid, heavy mass that I drag around chained to me with the hopes that I can manage to someday break off big chunks and toss them to folks in need of a little. The problem is, my boulder keeps growing and never seems to get any smaller. I dream of the day when I have given all of it away and have to begin really giving of myself until I am whittled down to nothing. And on that day, you can just put the only thing left of me--a big, old smile--in a box in the ground
Becky Lyn Rickman
Mom of many, servant to my cats, Cary Grant's other girlfriend (still trying to work out the logistics of that one).