If I were Smart

If I were smart, I would remember names of famous people in history, movie i've seen this month and Kindergarten parents I run into at the Mexican restaurant. I have always felt deficient, incapable and almost tune out the words before they are spoken, while at the same time pretending it is easy for me to recall, but it has just slipped my mind. The exception is that when my dad began to list the names of truck containers on our 13 hour drive home from Connecticut, I said, "Oh, are you listing them off for me, because if so, there is no need, as I'm not interested. If not, feel free to continue." There was nervous laughter and I felt guilty for a while, but those are names I just don't care to know.

In my writing, I often identify men as, "other." In my thinking, I consider people as "other." Friends are all the insiders while I stand outside. I also think of the information, context and data as inside and feel there is some unknown barrier to recollecting it. Umberto Ecco said of The Name of the Rose that he purposely made the first 100 pages complex in order to weed out those unworthy of its brilliance. I stopped just about page 99, though I pretended I finished it, feeling his comment was geared towards me. In high school I attended an adult Sunday school class on Isaiah and frantically took notes and nodded without believing I could understand a word.

I somehow believe, "I am not wanted on a team," "I am the mean neighbor for not taking people's kids on my hike," "I am looked down at, when I enter the room." Thus, I am wary of all attention.

My best friend is visiting for four whole days, which is a huge gift. Somehow as I make food or consider our days plan, I assume she is wondering at my chaos. As we discussed it, she asks if the chaos was just in my head, because her experience of our space is that it is calm and manageable. My internal organs can't seem to relax, though. I can't feel quiet without the external fast solution for every decision.

I head for my third of four weekends away and anticipate the freedom in being in Chicago. I want to feel safe outside of eyes and ears and the embarrassment at making yet another carb heavy meal. I am wishing for a bigger anchor to knowing myself and a way to expel my internal chaos, which I know is in sitting with God. My ability to remember is not the focus, but rather, I need to believe I am created and able to hear his voice. I am amazed at his power to find me, to quiet my thoughts, to heal friends and to generally be much bigger then what I normally allow for, which I hope to write more about soon.