Unexpected

My last entry kinda wandered off my original goal. It turned into a daily play-by-play, which I suppose needed to be told in the greater scheme of things. But my intent was to expose my inner condition.

I am amazed, or at least pleased, with how I am feeling right now. Now, on the calendar. I am feeling strongly recovered from seasonal affect. I feel cured of sleep deficit, or at least nominally recharged. The difference goes on to affect other areas as well.

Normally, spring…okay, not spring, but late winter — January and February!… is a time for reinventing myself. For taking inventory, physically as well as spiritually and emotionally, and making myself over into whatever new creature I need to be.

Coming through the seasonal depression, this is a very easy time for me to do so. Most winters use up all of my energy, all of who I am – all of my id and ego – just to survive. The first weeks of the new year is spent just recovering the energy simple. Later weeks are spent rebuilding the id and ego, restoring structure. It ia during this time that I can easily substitute new structures; rewire the joint.

And I have much to consider at this juncture: I have relationship issues, vocational directions to consider, possibly substantial legal and financial concerns on the horizon, plus the regular total self-assessment.

The interesting thing is that I am not so down, this year. I am feeling like I am at least a month ahead of where I normally would be. I feel, internally I sense that, the time for reinvention has already past – that I am already restored fully beyond that point.

By contrast, I feel as if I have only begun to wrestle with the issues which I face and will face. This leaves me with a giddy uncertainty; a sort of “resolve to be unresolved” – an expectation of the unexpected… which is thrilling! …I think.

It is the eye of the parradoxx and the heart of my operating mode.

Which, that statement, makes a good seguay. Part of what I am wrestling with are relationship issues. The paradox of the wild white magic is central to my self-identity — at least for my own part. But I am coming to realize that a more subtle component may be more central to others’ image of myself.

My middle name is ‘Wayne’. Since I was 8 or 9, when I first learned of it, I have taken some pride in its meaning, although I admit as a young child I was at a loss for how it would come to be applied.

‘Wayne’ comes from or is related to ‘Wagoner’, refering to wagons and the waynes they travel. The spiritual meaning is “lifter of cares”.

Without knowing the meaning of my first name, and my last name simply coming from a region, it seems that I am aptly named. I have written before about my epitaph, my eulogy to be “I was a good friend…” I keep seeing people move into and out of my life, all of them drawing so close, and after a time, fading away.

In each case, while I am close, I am “needed”, and after, it is clear that I am not. It is a spiritual talent that I can and do bond very deeply and quickly with people. It opens a conduit for them to share and “off-load” some of their burdens.

The downside is that thus far, in my whole life, it seems to have always been a temporary affair.

Rarely does anyone else offer to carry my burdens. When it happens, its usually a guilt-offering, to make up for my carrying theirs. People will point out the unfairness, but no one seems willing to actually make up the difference.

I feel “victimized” by my gifts again in recent days. I want to be resentful of the fact that I’ve helped transport so many people to the other side of their gaps (some I’ve helped cross by NOT carrying their loads), yet here I stand, still without partner, still without equal.

But I find I can’t seem to make the resentment stick. It truely is not who I am. It is not any part of my character. Ultimately, I work for God. I myself am saved by Christ, who gave me so much more, carried somuch more weight, even of my own, than I will ever do for Him. I am too much aware of this truth. Resentments don’t stick.

In any case, bringing this back to topic… I find that here is an area I’d like to change, but the time for change has past, and then I discover, ironically, that maybe I didn’t want to change it anyway. I wonder?

I continue to expect the unexpected.