float on

trying to keep afloat. no storm on the horizon, just the strain of keeping my head above a steady lap of water. of not succumbing to the weight of everything i am trying to keep in my arms.

on sunday, sitting between Yale and Roommate at church, i felt my head start to churn in a frantic spin. when everyone started to sing "amazing love, how can it be..." i started to cry slow fat tears. amazing love! how can it be?? on both sides of me. the love i have for and feel from a roommate who has been a rock, a companion, a fun and hilarious and sparkling example of how taking a risk on living with someone you don't know can be one of the very best surprises you ever had. amazing love. a steady comfort in the tumult of the last year. and on the other side, Yale, whose love for me knocked the wind out of me and grabbed me by the hand to hoist me up to a new life. a married life. a new place to live, a new adventure, a new routine and the realization of a long awaited hope. there are GOOD things on the horizon.

the Amazing Love was going to tear me in half. a cacophony of excitement, happiness, terror, sadness, guilt, amazement, joy, nostalgia, missing, pining, eagerness and overwhelm.

like the acrobat spinning plates on sticks.

and i cannot stop spinning, or everything will come crashing down.

of course, all that spinning does not leave much room for surprises. throwing another plate on the stick feels impossible. even relatively basic life things feel like too much work. clean up the apartment so the landlords can come do some work. NO! no time. when am i supposed to do that? have long late convos with fiance about what church to go to when we get married. NO! i am so tired i can barely see straight. i cannot add that level of emotional processing to my spinning plates. work friends want me to go with them to lunch AND happy hour? no. i can't spend that kind of cash today, and i need to work on wedding planning stuff on my lunch hour. and i just want to go home. so i can start cleaning. so i can make lists. so i can think and pray about all this stuff.

i just started to write a list of all the things spinning in my heart, but deleted it. it doesn't matter what, or how many things. it is a matter of Trust, and of Faith, and of processing and of prayer.

no whining that there is such an overwhelm of Good in my life, that i am torn up by it.

keep my hands open, my arms open, and my heart open. grasping never seems to work out very well. and it is tough to dog-paddle with fear and anxiety and stress and handfuls of angst in your arms.