such great heights.
This week, I realized that I’ve been asking the wrong questions.
It was tough to swallow. I’m usually the one who gets to say that.
When people ask things like, “Does Heaven actually exist?”
OR
“So did John actually write his Gospel?”
I realize I’ve asked the same questions and realized the answer was not conducive to what I was actually searching for.
I don’t mind when I realize I’ve asked the wrong questions when it comes to philosophy and theology, but recently I’ve come to grips that I’ve been asking the wrong questions about my life.
Trying to navigate through the muddy waters of a recent-ish break up, college graduation around the corner, and the ever nagging journey of self actualization- I was asking a lot of questions.
Should I go to grad school?
Should I take time off before grad school?
Am I meant to live a life of a spinster like Bridget Jones?
What am I getting all these degrees for anyway?
I was drowning in worry and anxiety. One can only stare out of windows gloomily for so long before it stops being as glamorous as movies make it look.
This week, I had one of those late night sushi cravings so I walked up the street to satisfy my spicy tuna craving. As I was going over the numerous worries clogging up my mind, I heard a very still small voice.
Now I don’t know if G-d “spoke to me” or maybe it was my own sub-conscious sick of hearing me freak out about everything. Whatever it was, it all of the sudden dawned on me that I was asking the wrong questions about my own life.
Instead of worrying about what my life was going to look like at 27, I got excited about the thought of being 27. Hopefully, I would be close to completing my education by then. I would have, hopefully, found a job that I can change the world through. And even if those things don’t exactly work out the way I want them to- I would have had probably had more hilariously amazing times, boarded more fantastic powder days, learned something new from another broken heart, cried and laughed and sang with my Shelter family – and hell, maybe I’ll even be grown up by then.
Though the questions I ask have practical importance like what my plans are for a career and things like that, I cant worry about it anymore.
I know what I love, what makes me come alive and that’s probably more than a lot of people can say.
I realize my questions come from practical concern but also probably say a lot more about my own uncertainty and need for security. I would like to look back on my life and remember that my actual desire for questions was not out of a need for security but out of a desire for something… bigger.
Kingdom of G-d bigger.
cat m. said,
October 28, 2009 at 4:25 am
Elba- you have no idea how much I resonate with you.