Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.
Rainer Maria Rilke
(1875-1926)
The final wisdom of life requires not the annulment of incongruity but the achievement of serenity within and above it.
Reinhold Niebuhr
(1892-1971)
Grace has been defined as the outward expression of the inward harmony of the soul.
William Hazlitt
(1778-1830)
I was in the Cotswolds last weekend - a most beautiful part of the country. Picture postcard England. Small villages made of creamy stone, gentle rivers with weeping willows, and soft days of golden autumn sunlight. So lovely.
It was a bittersweet journey though. Last time I was there it was with someone I loved very much; someone who is no longer in my life although at the time I thought we would be together forever, someone who chose not to be with me and who I’m certainly better off without but who I still miss some days, especially when I find myself in places where we were happy together. This time I was sitting on the edge of the river at twilight, feeding the ducks and swans and thinking about him, and about my lovely brother, and other people I've loved and who are no longer with me for one reason or another. Honestly, feeling quite lonely, despite the fact that I was there with friends and we'd had a lovely afternoon together. I looked at this swan, off to the side of the bread-chasing mêlée, all on its own, and on the one hand I was struck by how lovely and peaceful it seemed, and on the other I could relate to its separateness and I felt quite melancholy. Suddenly I was crying. Again.
The obvious reason for this is the loss or the loneliness of the moment washing over me and I'm okay with that. But there's something else going on too, something that has to do with incongruity.
It's weird, on the surface of things my life continues as normal - busy, full of good things, good people and I am trying hard to engage with all of this, appreciate it, and not live too much in my head but mostly I feel quite cut off and underneath the calm and coping exterior, churning.
Churning with questions.
I've realised recently that I'm apparently good at creating a facade of normality and holding-it-togetherness. It might be one of my strengths. But perhaps also one of my weaknesses? Funnily enough, someone described me the other day, in a group activity at work, as a swan - graceful, with a calming and confident energy. It was offered as an affirmation, a gift, and I accepted it as such. And I was momentarily really pleased with the description. It sounds good. In the next moment I thought to myself, “if only you knew!” and I wasn't just thinking of the fact that I'm clumsy and routinely walk into things, so far from graceful, although that someone might see me that way made me smile.
It gave me pause though, the thought that I come across as calm and collected when I really don't feel it, and as I sat on that riverbank I was reminded of this too. I think I’m still glad I’m perceived in this way (especially in a work context) and I also think it used to be a reasonably accurate reflection of my inner state. But it feels like a long time since it was more true than not and I find myself wondering if it's still serving me well to project this outwardly? Another question I really don't know the answer to.
Maybe as Rilke suggests it's just about being patient and trying to love the questions rather than being focussed on the answers. Generally I like living in a world that's more about questions than answers but right now the balance seems awkwardly tipped and I am not comfortable here. I don't know how to reconcile myself to it, or find any answers, and frankly I'm exhausted by the trying and I'm bored with the constant anxiety. Bored with myself.
I just want to turn a corner and start to feel like what's on the outside reflects what's on the inside again. If I let what's on the inside out right now, I'd be a wild-haired, whirling, wanton banshee. Not a swan. Definitely not a swan.
It was a bittersweet journey though. Last time I was there it was with someone I loved very much; someone who is no longer in my life although at the time I thought we would be together forever, someone who chose not to be with me and who I’m certainly better off without but who I still miss some days, especially when I find myself in places where we were happy together. This time I was sitting on the edge of the river at twilight, feeding the ducks and swans and thinking about him, and about my lovely brother, and other people I've loved and who are no longer with me for one reason or another. Honestly, feeling quite lonely, despite the fact that I was there with friends and we'd had a lovely afternoon together. I looked at this swan, off to the side of the bread-chasing mêlée, all on its own, and on the one hand I was struck by how lovely and peaceful it seemed, and on the other I could relate to its separateness and I felt quite melancholy. Suddenly I was crying. Again.
The obvious reason for this is the loss or the loneliness of the moment washing over me and I'm okay with that. But there's something else going on too, something that has to do with incongruity.
It's weird, on the surface of things my life continues as normal - busy, full of good things, good people and I am trying hard to engage with all of this, appreciate it, and not live too much in my head but mostly I feel quite cut off and underneath the calm and coping exterior, churning.
Churning with questions.
I've realised recently that I'm apparently good at creating a facade of normality and holding-it-togetherness. It might be one of my strengths. But perhaps also one of my weaknesses? Funnily enough, someone described me the other day, in a group activity at work, as a swan - graceful, with a calming and confident energy. It was offered as an affirmation, a gift, and I accepted it as such. And I was momentarily really pleased with the description. It sounds good. In the next moment I thought to myself, “if only you knew!” and I wasn't just thinking of the fact that I'm clumsy and routinely walk into things, so far from graceful, although that someone might see me that way made me smile.
It gave me pause though, the thought that I come across as calm and collected when I really don't feel it, and as I sat on that riverbank I was reminded of this too. I think I’m still glad I’m perceived in this way (especially in a work context) and I also think it used to be a reasonably accurate reflection of my inner state. But it feels like a long time since it was more true than not and I find myself wondering if it's still serving me well to project this outwardly? Another question I really don't know the answer to.
Maybe as Rilke suggests it's just about being patient and trying to love the questions rather than being focussed on the answers. Generally I like living in a world that's more about questions than answers but right now the balance seems awkwardly tipped and I am not comfortable here. I don't know how to reconcile myself to it, or find any answers, and frankly I'm exhausted by the trying and I'm bored with the constant anxiety. Bored with myself.
I just want to turn a corner and start to feel like what's on the outside reflects what's on the inside again. If I let what's on the inside out right now, I'd be a wild-haired, whirling, wanton banshee. Not a swan. Definitely not a swan.
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15 comments:
although this may be beside the point, I must say this is some of your best writing.
Also, there is something here I completely relate to. I am perceived by others as calm, composed, collected. For much of my life I felt that way on the inside, but a few years ago I went through a terribly dark period and there was so much turmoil inside. I portrayed the old me to everyone, and so my interactions were always superficial. Trying to let others in is still a daily goal. I have to make an effort to do so.
I think we all have our moments - the moments where we feel a disconnect with our internal self and the one we project to everyone else. You are entitled to feel sad and lonely and wistful...and wanting to cry like a banshee and let your hair whip in the wind. Do it! The older I get the more I say - what am I waiting for? You are not alone, my friend.
yes ..i felt uncomfortable ..questioning myself as I read this ..and that is good.. good writing ..gracious sharing of feelings that touch my heart...you know so many people outwardly are not the same as the self inside..lots of good points here..sending my love friend
This is why I love your blog so, you often speak the words of my own life.
serenity within inconguity is certainly something to aspire to.
you are blessed that your outward self has the ability to be gracefully solid even when the inside is not so much. it is a gift. there is much admiration coming from this occasional banshee.
enjoy your weekend friend. the waters inside will once again be still. write. write. write.
i have been in that space... and i feel for you. sending you love and strength - you will make it through, and you will be all the more beautifully multidimensional for it.
Like others here I've been there, too. Remember that a swan may look calm and placid but beneath the water her feet are constantly moving her in one direction before switching to another, then propelling her to get a piece of bread, and later backing her away from danger. Being a swan isn't a bad thing, but I understand.
Interesting, the swan metaphore. They do seem so calm and serene on the surface, but remember there is a lot of churning underneath just to keep them moving along. May sunshine and peace come to you soon. In the mean time keep paddling.
Even though you share some of your feelings of loss and gut churnings here with us I also think of you as a calm serene sort of person. It must come through in your writing somehow.
I have many happy memories of the Cotswolds. Have you been to the handpainted silk shop in Broadway?For some reason that stands out in my memory.
Enjoy your lovely new book and tell me what you think.
I too, know that place - when it hits like a gust of wind- takes your breath away and leaves you feeling empty- BUT- and here is the big but- You haven't lost ME!!!
I am just so sure that makes your day!!!
Your writing as always makes me all gooey inside and I want to reach my hand across the big water and pat yours. You'll be alright, you will...
It seems that all of us feel this way from reading your comments, and the fact you have put it so well into words is maybe part of your swandom-your ability to write so clearly of these feelings while experiencing them. I supose you could try the banshee thing, but maybe it is just not you! It is hard to feel like this underneath but to preserve outward calm, but sometimes that seems to me the only way to actually hold things together and a kind of strength, because if you let it all out then control would be lost and that is scary and not necessarily comforting. So,personally, I hardly ever let it all out and I don't know if this is a good or a bad thing.
I hope that there will begin to be the occasional time when your inside will match your outside. Sending calming thoughts. xx
Hi dearest Kenda, do let it come out, otherwise you'll be carring a burden along all the time that is way to havy. Talk to your dear brother were ever you are. He'll hear you, and be there for you. Do grief you are so still in the middle of it.
And I know there is a person in your presence already who you're not quite able to 'see' in this special way but who will give you a shoulder to lean on. Do accept it when it's offered and let yourself go.
You are you and your beautiful soul needs nurturing my friend.
If only my arms were long enough to embrace you right now. I would.
Take good care of the you in you my friend. You'll become a swan again soon.
Hugs Dagmar
Oh I could really relate to this post today. Often my outer and inner don't seem to match. Sometimes I even wonder what people are thinking when they are talking to me. I wonder, "do they have any idea that i am about to jump out of my skin?" OR "can they tell that i am not really sure what i'm talking about??" hahaha
you have been through so much. i think it's wonderful that you know when to surrender and stay in bed...and when to try to stay connected to the outer world by socializing, working, etc.
thinking about you!! suzy
You are so self-aware. You know this about yourself, right? I actually think being self-aware is a massive step towards reaching those destinations on our journeys. Without that I don't think we get very far.
You're living in the question it seems. It can make us absolutely crazy, but sometimes it's a good place to be.
I love your thoughtfulness and insight. It provokes me - in a good way.
I like the wild-haired, whirling, wanton banshee vision!
It is so interesting that we often appear to others so much more put together than we feel. Perhaps that is because it is all relative. The observer is just more scattered than we are!
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