Thurman talks of how his life is connected to other lives that thread to his. He identifies one thread line from someone who is precariously ill; another is for fierce and holy dreaming; another is so tangled with past errors, angry words and, false starts.
Oh yeah, I know THAT thread, looking like it was spewed out in a looping, curving, knotted mess – angry in some places, despondent in others, promising in yet another spot. And a certain and straight thread runs through it, like a shoreline light house, or a railroad line that support movement and growth and hope.
Thurman calls that the strange thread. He says it is his “steadying thread” – God holds the other end.
I have come to a day when I question my motives, my goals, my dreams, my pains, my opportunities, my mistakes – all of it. I am second guessing – again.
I feel as though I’ve been coughed out of the mainstream finding myself drenched, nearly spent, dazed and scrambling in several directions – or trying to.
I once had confidence. I once knew what I could do. I once thought I was smart or at least smart enough to fake it until I could make it.
But, now that’s gone. That blessed assurance has been snuffed out. Cancer does that to you.
I feel disassembled. It’s been a while since I’ve was all together and some parts can’t be replaced.
My body has been carved on and with it my psyche too.
I’m trying to re-gather all my pieces, to re-member myself. But, I can’t quite get it right. Something important is missing. Something fundamental is missing.
I can’t name it. I don’t know where to find it. I don’t know how to look for it.
I’ve been told I was born with the gift of fortitude. Fortitude is for survival mode. I’d like to do more than survive. But, you see, some pieces are gone. I haven’t been put back together yet. I’m waiting for something to hear, or see or feel that will give me that central I piece I need before I can really do the rebuilding that must be done.
So, I’m listening, and watching for the essential thing to rebuild me. I hope I don’t miss it. I hope I’m looking in the right direction and it doesn’t pass behind me. Ahh, keeping up with where I’m supposed to be is exhausting. God, you’re going to have to hold me because I feel a little lost.