Don't Be One Of Those Goobers

you've got mail. minus meg ryan and tom hanks.
Originally uploaded by emily[love].

It's all personal.

The traffic, the courier, the lunch dates, the facebook posts, the weather, the PB with no J days, the conversations, the bad hair days, it's all personal.

And if you're one of those goobers that wants to thump a soap box with your thesis of "it's-only-personal-if-you-let-it-be-personal," well, Meg Ryan (in You've Got Mail) would retort right back to you, "What does that mean except that it's not personal to you. Everything's personal." Everything in life, whether one means it or not, is personal. Everything in life, whether you want it to be or not, is personal. The things done around and to us effect us. Our souls are touched by the people around us and the conversations that feed it everyday. In fact, I'd submit that we internalize "effects" more thoroughly than we internalize the air we breathe. Maybe that's why we don't even realize everything effects us so much, we do it without a thought. We're sensitive little creatures. Our hearts are the wellspring of our lives. If it touches our heart, well, it's gonna mess with our lives. It's all personal, it effects and touches our lives and effectually our souls.

Going through a major grief recently, My heart was profoundly effected. In the aftermath of effects, I went through many a stage. Maybe it was my sensitivity in the midst of these stages that started to realize how trully sensitive we all are.

The anger stage wasn't pretty. In fact, it might have been downright ugly. Not only did I gain 10 lbs because I ate everything in sight (my passivity requires munching things rather than people) but I also suffered some disgusting road rage. I mean, I was the girl that talked to herself in the car as if the person that just legitimately cut me off could actually hear my weenie insults. Seriously, I might be the kindergartner of insulters. I can't say something that really zings someone whenever they're standing right in front of me. Instead, I replay the scene over and over in my head, thinking of what I should or could have said.** Bugger me.

But after the anger stage, or perhaps in and out of the anger stage, I was in the emotionally-crazy stage. I'm not really sure this is the correct psychological name for this stage. But I'll tell you it could not be a more apropo name for the reality I inhabited. In this stage, you are set off by any and every little thing in life. I.e., you spill a drink, your day is spoiled. You lose your keys, your life is over. If someone were to respond in a manner unlike what I thought was the appropriate response, I would immediately feel rejected and dejected while my hand always reached for that dang candy bowl on my work desk. It doesn't matter if that person were telling me that the mail had already come and the package could only go out today if I called in a special pickup, well, I'd still feel completely put off. Nuts, I know.

Pre-anger/emo, I was really a case of despondance. Nothing really bothered me because I had no feelings. Had I won the lottery, I would have taken a nap.

Now? Well...I think the emo has dulled...the anger has cooled...and I might actually feel alive for the first time in a long time. Now, I'm not saying I'm healed. This precious heart of mine has undergone some serious trauma this past year. Even with attempts to guard it, it was left looking like a mac truck had done some doughnuts and mudding in it's remnants. Not much left. But I will say that I sense a major shift in healing, I mean, I haven't begged Him to "take me HOME!" for a few months now.

I have the Master Healer...and He has been incredibly good about finding all the little pieces scattered in the dirt. He continues to speak of those things I had no idea had effected me. Ofttimes it's an excursion back into one of these stages that reminds me that I have healing yet to do. Occasionally I even digress back to the anger stage and dredge up horrible little things I coulda/woulda/shoulda said. But then, a bit of wisdom from the secularists inevitably floats to the top of my brain, a clip from Meg Ryan again, reminiscing her own success in the timely insults department: "Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we'd both be happy? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows."**

Thus, I am reminded of the vanity and fleeting deliciousness of said insults...and know that I'd be the one writing a long apology later. *sigh* One day my heart will look like Jesus so much that I'll desire only sweet things to say rather than tart.

Much love y'all...


Annetta

**If I'd just realize that saying what I want to say at the moment I want to say it is not the road to healing I might in fact cease to desire said insulting. However, knowing my stubborn idiocy in that matter, probably not.