rise from the ashes, phoenix

Stories of my Childhood

I'm on fire when you're near me
I'm on fire when you speak
I'm on fire burning at these mysteries


It has been quite some time now since I have continually considered it imperative to write in this journal more often. See, when I go back in time and read, which I actually do every few years, I am always appalled and saddened by the dead spots. Tonight I feel a mix of different emotions. I am a bit demure, a bit pensive, a bit adventurous, a bit off, tired out of my wits, and satisfied. The last of the boxes was packed last night, tomorrow I will likely stand about ordering other people around carrying the boxes that contain lovingly (in my case) and hurriedly (in Paul's case) packed items. Much of what has been packed and left behind is mine, and precious. Paul's not a big stuff person. It's been a painful process for me.

This morning I totally lost it. I forgot to eat breakfast and then just couldn't function at all and eventually burst into hacking sobs and murmurs of "I don't want to leave, I don't want to leave..." One of the big problems is that my energy doesn't come out until 10pm. At around 9:30pm I start to perk up, and I can work for hours at mental or physical labour. If I were working a common job, I'd probably want something part time in the evening, I'd do best at it - for now I just do all my Admire work then. So last night I packed until 2am, which resulted in the majority of the packing being finished. Most of today I spent erranding or sitting around like a zombie while Paul flew about in frustration at the seemingly never-ending stream of boxes. Neither of us have ever owned this much stuff that needed to be moved before. It was kind of maddening.

Yesterday while I was packing by myself and Paul was changing the oil in our car to prep for the 6-hour moving haul, Paul's friend Mike came over and generally bummed around the house while I packed and sorted things. (He did offer to help, but it probably would have been just as much work to direct him as to let him entertain me while I worked anyway.) He accepted a drink, tried on some of Paul's ties, entertained me with stories of crazy things people asked him when he worked at the knife/sword store in town, and played my guitar for a bit. He's the only drop in guest we've ever had at our place, and it was a good experience to be remembered.

Today after Paul made us all supper at his Mom's place to try and get rid of some of our food in a constructive manner, a scream came from upstairs. As Paul said later, "My Mom's afraid of rodents. Can you imagine a flying rodent that swoops at your head?" Somehow a bat had made it into the upstairs room of the house. I perked up despite my exhaustion and stayed upstairs, enjoying the sound of the bat's flight. Rachel and Paul and I were upstairs commenting on how cute the bat was and trying not to hurt it while attempting to herd it out of doors through the windows we'd taken the screens off of. The poor little guy was tired and scared, but eventually made it outside partly by accident - however it was accomplished, we had our evening's entertainment and the cute little bat was free.

Rachel and Paul were commenting about how I didn't flinch when it passed me and it reminded me of a series of events from childhood. When I was young I was always interested in the next sport on the list. I took classes in tennis, basketball, and softball, to name the ones I can remember offhand. I also played a lot of floor hockey. It all started in softball. Softball was a shaming experience, because, just like a common girly-girl, I used to duck or flinch or freeze whenever something would come at me. This was a bad thing, because it resulted in an inability to play any game. (Except sometimes dodgeball, though whether I would duck or flinch or freeze wasn't really under my control, so my dodge ball skills weren't too hot either.) I let teams down so often that I began to hate that part of myself and resolved to fix it however I could. By that time, the softball class was over. The next opportunity was floor hockey, and I took it. I started off by standing at a reasonably dangerous part of the gym and watching the boys play, waiting for a ball to fly my way. I decided that I would stand there, even if I thought it was going to hit me. And sometimes, it did. After one memorable evening of this activity, I had about four assorted colors of bruises and a lump on my head. But I was getting better at it. I watched softball at the church after youth group for three more weeks. Then I took a stick and surprised everyone by asking to be taught how to play. The guys, who were a decent bunch, taught me and taught me well, and I proceeded to develop continual bruises until I taught myself how to move. I knew I could move fast - the flinching taught me that, but I wanted to get it under control. And I'd always had a throwing eye. So then I got into basketballs. Now, having a small orange ball come at your head at 60mph sucks. A basketball at similar speeds is scary in its own right.

I taught myself lots of things growing up, but I have to admit, that was the most useful so far. It has had many adaptations, not the least of which is sports. But today I got to hear a bat whishing past my head. It was beautiful, and I really appreciated it. And it brought to mind a picture of my own childhood stubbornness, which I now attempt to apply to many other areas of life, and often to my benefit. It's one of the things I got from my family that I appreciate the most. It helped me pack for four straight days despite the onset of acute exhaustion. It helped me stick with Paul until he finally figured out that he was in love with me, and it helped me keep searching for a cure for eczema even after I thought it was hopeless - and now I found a Doctor whose prescriptions made the eczema all but vanish in only a few days. So again I am like the phoenix and I am newly feathered in fire and fierce and proud to be making a change, reborn into a new city, a new adventure with my dearest love.
Awww! I loved your last sentence. :D I'm glad that you've had some good times lately. I hope and pray that everything will go as smoothly as possible in your time of transition.