I’ve been traveling down “GET OVER IT” street the past few days. I’ve been here before and it’s a very plastic environment. All the store fronts are glossy and shiny and look so pretty, but there is nothing meaningful beyond the doors. A bunch of pretty boxes filled with hot air sold by vapid, vacant smiles. Sneering, intolerant souls that tell you to get a life.
The only eatery on “GET OVER IT” street features cream puffs of misunderstanding and soup bowls full of clouds. Nothing substantial or life sustaining. Just a lot of pep talks featuring clichés that gloss over whatever wound you are attempting to heal. And if you don’t come around in the allotted time, tsks and muttered whispers about how you just need to grow up or get a sense of humor are not so quietly murmured.
As fake and phony as this avenue is, I know we have all travelled down it on occasion. Usually holding hands with someone that just needs a little real compassion or a listening ear and not a list of reasons that they should pull themselves up by their boot straps. I’m not into worthless wallowing, but I am into restorative reflection.
Sometimes when an incident cuts a little too deeply than it should it indicates a deeper or hidden injury that needs to be examined before healing can truly begin. My recent bout of melancholy was triggered by a seemingly harmless joke that stirred up memories that I had forgotten I had. To be completely honest, I hadn’t forgotten, I had just chosen to ignore them. They were the elephant in the room that I stepped around. I had a giant pooper scooper that I used to clean up the mess that pachyderm usually caused when he got riled up, but I never took the time to tear down the walls that held it captive and let it go. Pretending it didn’t exist and strolling down the boulevard of artificial authenticity seemed easier. It wasn’t. And I am exhausted trying to shovel the steaming piles of crap.
There is a sharp turn up ahead that will guide me into the world of genuine existence, I just have to follow a narrower path. I need to be careful that I don’t slip into the ditches that border the curb, or I could get stuck in the mire of “what ifs”, “whys”, and worry. I’m seeking healing not another round of self-pity.
The difference between the last time I faced these particular demons and now is a stronger relationship with God. I believe that He has revealed this area to me again to help me get past it. He is saying that the smelly animal that has for so long dominated the room in my heart He is supposed to occupy needs to take its trunk and go. Will this be an easy process? Probably not. But maybe for the first time in forever I am finally ready.
There will soon be another large elephant roaming free in the jungle. The siren song of “GET OVER IT” street no longer appeals to me. Authenticity avenue is just a step away. And that step doesn’t seem nearly as daunting this time.
I am a Christian, a wife, a mom, and a part-time basket case who wants to be a full time writer.