Just Write 133

April 29, 2014

She said, Yeah…you get to just be human now…

and I closed my eyes and saw the sun shining all aglow around her brown curls. But she was on the phone, so this was just me, thinking of her. A friend who came to me perfectly and has stayed and we’ve walked these things that can’t be predicted.

It hit me so hard.

I get to just be human now.

Well, that’s obvious, a person would think. We’re people, humans. Yup, be one. But some of us are just so opposed to this, sailing around so sure of sainthood, of rightness with all things, of overcoming and pressing on and keeping straight.

I’m so tired.

And then sometimes you walk into something so foreign and terrifying that there is absolutely no way to deny your humanity. You can only be absolutely sure you are going to make a whole lot of mistakes while you try to figure it out, and suddenly that’s okay.

It’s okay.

I work hard sometimes. Like the other day when I pulled bins and boxes down from the attic and brought them down the ladder and stacked them along the wall in the bedroom. Now there they sit, waiting to be moved because yes, we’re moving again. In June we will cross a lot of states again, back to Minnesota. It’s a long story, as they say.

There are Christmas things peeking at me from inside those clear bins against the wall and it seems so strange, to think that Christmas was a part of the last year, it’s so distant, and it’s coming again. And that we’ll bring these things with, while we wait to do holiday things again and we’ll put them in a new storage place. It will get so cold and out these red and green things will come and so will I, maybe. Or maybe longer, maybe I’ve got more time to wait, all stored up like this.

So she said, You get to just be human now. And I think she said it twice because sometimes she knows she has to say things to me more than once, so I’m really listening, not just hearing. I was only quiet because it was so astounding I wanted to cry.

Everyone needs a war, something they can turn to, something they can die for in the end.*  I want to live a passionate life, a messy beautiful and crooked life. I want to be so impulsive and trying so hard to love so well that I trip a lot and build my house there. I want to sweat and bleed and rise up and crash down hard. I want to grab tight to God because it’s all too much if I don’t. I want to live, human.

*from a song by Carolina Story called In the End

This is the 133rd installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {Please see the details here.}  I would love to read your freely written words so join me and link up below. You can add the url of your post at any time. Just be sure it’s a link to your Just Write post, not to your main page. There are really no rules, besides Just Write! (Then link back to this post in your post so people know where to go if they’d like to join in.) (Any links not following those two guidelines will be deleted.) 

Also. Please take a moment to visit someone else who has linked up! It’s a really good way to meet new writers and get inspired by the meaning behind their moments. Word?


Kim April 29, 2014 at 9:22 am

Kim recently posted..4th Trimester Bodies; One more…

Suzanne April 29, 2014 at 11:14 am

I read this almost every time and vow to do it myself. Your words are always beautiful. Today I did it! Yay for just writing.
Suzanne recently posted..Just Writing.. On Wind And The Kindness Of Spring

Misty April 29, 2014 at 2:07 pm

I didn’t get any new posts from you in my Feedly for oh so long and just assumed that you were on blog hiatus- more power to you if you were. Then today I had a pile of posts that all came through at once. All that to say that of all the voices on the internets, you are one that I cherish the most, and you have been missed. I truly hurt for you as you face Big Things and another move and whatever else may be going on. Your sharing your life and words here has helped me to be kind and gracious to myself, and to just be human, during my own Big Things and I will pray that you will receive all the grace you have dished out so freely to others, and even more besides. Love to you Heather!

Lynda M Otvos April 30, 2014 at 12:18 am

Oh Heather, my heart stretches across the Rockies and the Rivers to hold yours in solidarity with the pain of change. Moving is such a big thing and to have to do it again so soon seems somehow unfair. Yes, the world is truly unfair and we know that-must we live it too ?~! Your free writing takes me away for the moment; for that I thank you.
Lynda M Otvos recently posted..Purple Blocks is now a Flimsy

Kristin Shaw April 30, 2014 at 8:59 am

Deep breaths, my friend. So much good is coming.

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