He thinks and tells me that right now I'm just instinctively putting up walls. That every move is a reaction, unintentional. Putting out flames but not getting to the root of it.
I know he's right. I know as he asks if I have a space to just be that the answer is no. I can make reasons and explanations, like, "I can be ___ with this person" or "I am open about ___ here." But for a general resting, to be fully known, the answer is no, I don't have that. And it's taking a toll. And I'm keeping more to myself than I realize (this is a pattern in my life).
Our walk is probably 40 minutes long, if not an hour. At some point I realize I can't rest my shoulders, and my muscles won't relax. Whether my hands are in my jeans or my jacket pocket, they're stiff. Something in my body wants to carry a certain posture and expression. I try to fix this while continuing the conversation, so I find myself walking with my hands out of my pockets so my arms can swing freely, though at the expense of cold fingers. I roll my shoulders a few times to loosen them, to let off a little of the pressure I'm carrying around. I stretch my arms. Relax, relax.
I need to just be. Amidst the pressure of everything...everything. As we talked today I realized there's so much transition in my life it almost feels comical. It feels impossible that there can be that much change and newness and unknown in one life at one time, yet there is. In a weird way, if I lay it all in front of me, it's so overwhelming maybe I can't do anything but laugh. So with every transition and every turn is another valve trying to stay just below exploding.
And the notion that's telling me to relax my shoulders, to stand at ease, to be okay not knowing what to say...is also telling me there's more to be known. The Father is calling his daughter to be known. To uncover all the brokenness, stress, sadness, disappointment, loneliness, and expectations and let him in. Do you want to know grace? Maybe I am afraid of how much I need it.
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