I have been in observation of myself the past few days and have become so aware of how small I have felt.  There was a moment standing in the funeral session line, next to my husband, being introduced to people I do not know and feeling like I was a teenager.  I do not know why? Maybe because I felt out of place.  Because it is awkward meeting people in that setting. Or maybe because it flashed me back to my mom's funeral where I was an acutal teenager and I felt helpless.  

I felt so helpless when mom died.  I was responsible for everything and yet felt like I made no decisions. I had so many grownups pulling me in different directions and telling me what to do and I remember it all going by in a flash and I was left feeling "what just happened?" And now, I look back with regrets. That I was not big enough to speak up, to say slow down. So now in death, I play big (play being the odd word), I do a lot, I fix, I make the calls and make everything ok, but I still feel small and uncomfortable.

And lets be honest, I like small.  Small allows me to stay home and hide. It allows me to NOT talk to anyone. Like really, I just do not want to talk.  Small allows me to not see people and most importantly to not be seen. Because I know as soon as you see me, I will break.  I will cry, I will not make sense and I will feel it all. Small is safe. 

But small sucks as well. As I sit here on my studio floor, getting ready to teach my first class in a week, I feel the panic.  I feel the urge to ask for someone to cover for me, to run. to give up. I feel the urge to quit. And though now I know that it is not an option. That I am big and I must step up. That this is the time to be in creation of something other than helplessness.  That the only way to not feel small, is to not be small. 

1 Comment