Foundations

I feel the need to confess that my enthusiasm towards life has not been at it's highest lately. For any of you who have read my blog from the beginning you might have noticed the gradual shift I have made in my writing. The blogs I write now are filled less with words and more with pictures. I got to a place where I felt afraid of my vulnerability. I was worried that I was exposing too much of myself and so I began to hold back and close off. As a result, without the outlet of writing I began to feel bottled up inside and have been distracted by an aching emptiness. I have been feeding the yearnings with everyday business and activity. My focus has been on homeschooling and housekeeping. I have been spending my days cleaning and crafting, drifting and wandering.. mostly around town on foot with my camera in hand. Taking photographs of other people's homes.. curious as to what lies behind those closed doors and glass windows. Wondering what secrets they hold.. or if any of those people inside ever wonder about me. What do they dream about and long for in those rooms alone with their own thoughts?



We have moved a total of 11 times in 9 years. I lost all interest in my neighbors lives long ago, knowing inside that more than likely we would soon move again. What was the point of growing close to people who would soon be nothing more than left behind memories? After awhile you begin to grow numb and shut yourself off from the outside world. Yet, recently something has begun to change inside me. At some point I became aware of my vulnerabilities and insecurities. I started to realize how truly lonely I am and came to terms with the fact that I can't take on everything by myself all the time. I came to accept the idea that I need friends and support and that it's okay to reach out once in awhile for help. It doesn't mean that I'm weak. But it has been a struggle.. humbling myself, opening up my wounds, allowing strangers into my life. At the same time it has made me more and more curious about the lives of others. It seems that the more I share, the more they share in return, and that feeling of connection to others, to a community of individuals, is simply amazing to me. I am suddenly aware that we all have our own different struggles and hopes and desires and that I am not alone in this world. I am not alone.



I can't tell you why we have moved around so much. Sometimes it was because we needed more space, a bigger yard, better school districts, cleaner parks.. etc. But to be honest, a big part of it is the result of trying to save our marriage. The idea that things would be better if we could just start over someplace fresh and new. That maybe if we found a house sturdy and solid enough it could somehow hold our marriage and our family together for just a little bit longer. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I worry that we have moved so much as a way to escape the past, as if we're trying to outrun the years of arguments and frustrations between us. Each time things are better temporarily, but then eventually those years began to catch back up. So we run again. Maybe if we move back to Ohio, or back to our hometown, or if we can find the perfect house in the perfect neighborhood it will make everything better between us.

I just finished reading "All the Way Home" Afterward I found myself no longer yearning for perfection, but destruction. Sometimes I think if I could just get my hands dirty and start tearing down the walls of myself.. all of those protective barriers.. I would finally find what it is that lies at my very core. I just want to strip myself down of all those years and years of covering up messes and expose myself for who I truly am. Imperfect. Flawed. Broken. Lost. Empty. Weak. And yet.. strong, faithful, loving, passionate, creative, and hopeful.



So here we are now in a new house in a new town once again and something feels different this time. I don't want to leave. The more I wander around the streets and feel the sidewalk under my feet the more grounded I feel. The more I yearn to know what causes this town to breathe.. to pulse in anticipation of what lies around the next corner. Suddenly I am not afraid to look ahead of me instead of always checking my back to see if my past has followed along at my heels. I invite those memories, weaknesses and hesitations to walk along beside me. When they begin to grow weary of the journey I take those pieces of myself, the ghosts of my past, and hold them close, but not so much that they begin to suffocate and grip me with fear.



And then we, my past and I, invited a new friend along for the walk. At first my fears quivered inside of me and began to close themselves off again as I talked about doorways and windows, railing and balconies. But then I felt myself slowly growing more comfortable, my insecurities slipping away.. and I began to share those small bits and pieces of myself as if attempting to put together a puzzle for someone else. As I spoke aloud, I attempted to make sense of the words coming out of my mouth and for a minute it all seemed clear. But then the images gradually began to slip through the cracks in our foundation as I found my way back home, alone once again. As I laid in bed last night my mind drifted off to images of tree roots pushing through concrete sidewalks..



As summer begins to come to an end and signs of fall begin to appear I find myself going inward, searching my heart for what it is that I am truly seeking. I feel that maybe if I keep walking and continue writing.. and if I stop trying to control everything and instead just allow myself to be patient and listen, the pieces might begin to start falling naturally into place again. And maybe, just maybe.. somewhere along the way I'll just happen to run into whatever it is that I have been searching for all along.

It's funny but when I sat down at the computer today I didn't have any intention of sharing these thoughts with you. I actually had planned to write about another book that I just finished, "The Summer Kitchen", which has given me even deepen insight into the empty parts of myself. For some reason or another this is what came out instead. I'm not going to try to understand it or analyze it though. I'm just going to finish up this sentence, hit publish, and trust that everything happens for a reason.

XOXO, Erin