o’er cuillin’s peaks the night is creepin

So if you missed the earlier entry, I’ve been sick.  I’m still not 100% yet, but I’m quite a lot better than I was.

Actually, I’m fairly wired and a little angry.  Or I was.  Now I’m…. not really sure.  My dad called today to see how I was doing.  Mom told him I had called out of work and was being miserable about being sick.  He’s so sweet.  Sometimes.  I was talking about how I didn’t feel all that bad for calling off work.  I was legitimately sick and I’ve stepped up a whole lot in the past few months.  Its not asking a lot for someone to cover the end tail of my shift while I’m sick with a fever.  My dad said that he agreed, but that I needed to remember this wasn’t a career it was just a job.

*sigh*

I’ve had this conversation before with my father.  I was working at the law firm and he kept pushing me, saying I could do better and go farther.  It annoyed me to no end back then.  Because while I may have agreed with him, I had no earthly idea what I wanted to go do!  I was relatively happy (for the moment) and why rock the damn boat!  But he pushed and pushed, and basically shoved me out of the nest.

Okay, well maybe not.  But it sort of felt that way.  And now I feel like he’s doing it again.  Except this time, he’s shoving me out of my own nest.  I pay my own rent.  I bought my own car.  I pay for my groceries and gas and fun.  I’m not a leech on his wallet, house or life anymore.  What exactly does he want from me?

The root of this is fairly simple and old.  I never feel that I’m good enough for him.  "Daddy, I got a 98 on my math quiz today!"  "Why didn’t you get 100?"  Everything I do, its not enough.  Its not good enough for him.  And that is extremely frustrating for me.  Especially because now that I think about it, I’m all on my own!  Its great and wonderful that he got through college, law school and to a partnership and has pushed himself so far.  But he had a wife.  A partner to help pick up the pieces.  To cook his food and do his laundry so he could spend all day studying.  So he could spend all day, every day at the office working.  My apartment right now is such a disaster area.  I kind of feel that if I had asked one of the church moms to come bring me a cup of soup or something, they would have been all over it.  Except my apartment is such a toxic waste dump, I’m embarrassed to have anyone come over.  But I don’t have the energy to do the massive cleaning overhaul that needs to be done.  And I don’t have a husband at home to help out.  To tell me that he’ll take care of filing the taxes and paying the bills, arguing with banks and loan companies; that I can just clean and vacuum and make healthier food.  Or vice versa!  If he wants to cook and clean while I pay the bills and argue with the bank, thats fine.  Its divide and conquer.  But when its just me, I’ve got to do it all myself.

I know.  Plenty of people manage this everyday and some even do it with kids and no spouse.  But I’m complaining about me and my dad.  He got married at 20.  Twenty!  Good for him.  I’ve lived eight years longer than he has being single.  He’s spent more of his life as a married man than not!  I haven’t even been in a relationship longer than I’ve been single!  So it annoys me that he thinks its all so damn easy for me.

But what really hurts me is that I’m not good enough for him.  I’m never good enough for him.  It doesn’t matter that I figured out how to purchase a car, pay my rent and actually start making a real dent in my debts.  All that matters is that I’m not… whatever he thinks I should be.  Which is possibly the more annoying part.  He doesn’t know or seem to care!  Its not like he’s trying to pressure me into law school or med school or music or the clergy.  He doesn’t have an ideal career path for me planned out in his head.  But he just thinks I’m better than all this.  Which translates into…  I’m not good enough.

I get frustrated because I know what he wants is for me to be happy.  And he knows I’m not entirely happy out here, but goddamn it I’m trying!  I’m really loving the fact that I can pay my own bills for once without crawling begging for scraps every few days.  I’m loving the fact that I can think about taking my cousin out for dinner or a movie.  Or going out for drinks and being the girl who splurges and buys everyone a round.

Okay, but what is my life goal?  What is my life’s purpose?  What will make me happy?  What will make my father happy?

I have absolutely no clue what the answer is to any of those questions.  I know I don’t want to be a lawyer or a teacher.  Check.  I know I don’t want to be a pastor.  Check.  I know I don’t want to be a pro-elite oboist.  Check.  Okay.  There’s still so much left.  I know I’ve always wanted to be a mom, although that dream is starting to slip away with each tick of the internal clock.  So what else is on the list?

Hotel manager?  Ehh, no.  Not really.  I don’t like people.  I should not be in the hospitality business.  Really.  I don’t know how I’ve managed to keep this job for so long already.

So what?  What is something that I love dearly?  Scotland.  Hmmm…

In January, at a worship conference I got to meet an amazing man named John Bell who helps run the Iona Community in Scotland.  He invited me to come over whenever I’d like.  I just looked into their organization, and while I most likely wouldn’t get a salaried position, I might be able to swing a volunteer position.  There’s even a volunteer position for a Musician Assistant.  How wonderful would that be?  Its too late now to try and go for this season (which starts in May).  Its just too fast.  But next year?  I’ve talked about how I would stay with my church until the new pastor has been there at least a year and then I might seriously consider moving on.  Don’t know where, but I know I need to leave.  Well, what about in a year, moving to Scotland for 4 months and volunteering.  They cover board and food and some travel expenses.  I was a little unclear on that, but thats okay.  I would need to sort out some medical insurance, but okay.  I could sell most of my stuff from here and bring the important things back to NY and store them with my parents.  Why not?

This whole idea is only about thirty minutes old, and I need to go back to work so I can go to my cousin’s track meet in a few hours.  Well, and because I need to go back to work.  But… its a serious possibility.  Its a possibility that I considered before.  Going to Iona for a few weeks between Michigan and the next stage, whatever it was.  But what if Iona was the next stage?  Is this the next lily pad that God is showing me?  Willing me to trust him and just jump?

Somewhere in here, I should talk about the radio programme I heard on my way into work about how more and more difficult it is to become truly unplugged.  How it is making it more and more difficult to concentrate on just one thing and as a result, is making it more and more difficult to really truly think.  It made me think about how I don’t really write in here anymore because I’m always distracted by something else.  Facebook or Netflix or Warcraft Hunter’s Union or emails or Pinterest.  And I just don’t take the time to stop and write.  To stop and think.  There was a guy on the radio show who said that he wasn’t even sure where the off button on his smart phone was located.  How when we get on planes and stewardesses ask the passengers to turn off their mobile phones and laptops, it feels like an invasion.  What about those commercials about how fast the internet can be?  "That was so 38 seconds ago!"  Maybe its supposed to be ironic or make me want the faster connection, but it actually makes me want to turn off my phone and laptop for a solid 24 hours and hibernate away from all the insta-contact.  I want to hear my friend’s sorrow as she worries about her kid’s surgery, not just read it in 40 characters zooming by at lightening speed.  I want to listen and talk to her and actually be there for her.  I want to be able to celebrate the marriage of my friend and laugh and cry and laugh again.  I want to be there in the moment, not zooming directly onto the next thing and making her feel like she’s unimportant because she was "so 36 seconds ago!"

But right now, I have to get back to work!  Enough with the procrastinating!

O’er Cuillin’s peaks the night is creepin,
The banshee’s croon is round us sweepin;
Blue eyes in Duin are dim with weepin;
But him not will ne’ver return, MacCrimmon.

No more, no more, no more MacCrimmon;
In peace or in war is he returning;
Till dawns the sad day of doom and burning,
MacCrimmon is home no more returning.

The breeze of the bens is softly blowing;
The brooks in the glens are gently flowing;
Birds in high trees are sighin and moanin
But him not will never return, MacCrimmon

No more, no more, no more MacCrimmon;
In peace or in war is he returning;
Till dawns the great day of doom and burning,
MacCrimmon is home no more returning.

MacCrimmon’s Lament  ~  Traditional sung by Heather Heywood