be still my beating heart
Sometimes I wonder if I'm slowly disappearing.
I find myself not wanting to be the one to talk in conversations but the one to listen instead. My love for the glamour of city life at night has begun to fade (though still there, occasionally) while future prospects of getting places more pastoral and organic have become strangely luring. I am not as attracted to the direct and loud but more to the mysterious and quiet. I find myself enjoying to be sitting on the side, avoiding the limelight, observing people and their interactions with others, mannerisms and nervous habits sticking out of place.
Will these changes be embraced?
Never have I understood so fully what Holden meant in Catcher in the Rye when he said that every time he set foot on the street and left the safe cement of the sidewalk, he felt as though he was disappearing. And every time, he'd start talking to his dead brother, Allie, hoping Allie would hear and keep him from disappearing.
Times like these I start to think about who I can talk to when I feel like I'm losing a familiar part of me that I've known for so long. Who can I turn to when I can't sort out why I feel a sense of loss?
The thing is, I know exactly who I'd turn to. It's a comforting thing... to know that no matter what (un)important changes I'm experiencing, I can crawl on my knees to my Allies, confusion seeping from the pores of my skin, only to watch them love me the same.
"Don't let me disappear, Allie. Please don't let me disappear." Be still, my beating and anxious heart. Peace is what God has given you.
I find myself not wanting to be the one to talk in conversations but the one to listen instead. My love for the glamour of city life at night has begun to fade (though still there, occasionally) while future prospects of getting places more pastoral and organic have become strangely luring. I am not as attracted to the direct and loud but more to the mysterious and quiet. I find myself enjoying to be sitting on the side, avoiding the limelight, observing people and their interactions with others, mannerisms and nervous habits sticking out of place.
Will these changes be embraced?
Never have I understood so fully what Holden meant in Catcher in the Rye when he said that every time he set foot on the street and left the safe cement of the sidewalk, he felt as though he was disappearing. And every time, he'd start talking to his dead brother, Allie, hoping Allie would hear and keep him from disappearing.
Times like these I start to think about who I can talk to when I feel like I'm losing a familiar part of me that I've known for so long. Who can I turn to when I can't sort out why I feel a sense of loss?
The thing is, I know exactly who I'd turn to. It's a comforting thing... to know that no matter what (un)important changes I'm experiencing, I can crawl on my knees to my Allies, confusion seeping from the pores of my skin, only to watch them love me the same.
"Don't let me disappear, Allie. Please don't let me disappear." Be still, my beating and anxious heart. Peace is what God has given you.