Mornings…

morning-sunshine

Waking up in the morning is kind of blissful for the first 5-20 seconds. Nothing is familiar. Nothing is remembered. Nothing is stressful. I don’t even know my name. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what my life is about. I don’t know what I did yesterday. I don’t know what worries me. If I’m lucky I get 20 seconds… and then the freight train of everything barrels through the stillness and I’m instantly myself again. Not only do I remember everything, but I feel everything. I remember who I am, and not like remembering my name, but like remembering the way I feel about myself, about the world, about life.

What’s the most unsettling is the instantaneous remembering all of the ways Nathan “is.” Everything from personality, feelings, emotions, physical characteristics, and more. And the next car on the train is like remembering all the ways that I’m not enough. Remembering all the ways that I have failed. Remembering all the things I have to do, that I haven’t done, and probably won’t be able to do any time soon. Remembering that I worry. Remembering.

This morning, as I’m contemplating this routine, I start to get angry.

I’m kind of pissed off with the conductor of this morning train of shit. Because I know that motherfucker did something to the last few cars that should be there with that train. I just know he stopped the train a few miles back on the tracks and disconnected the cars that I now know are missing.

I know the cars of remembering who I really am, remembering my heart how rich and deep it is, remembering the contribution that I am to the people I love. Remembering that I love people, remembering that people love me, remembering the things that excite me about myself, remembering the things that excite me about life, remembering my successes, remembering my gratitude for my body, remembering my confidence and trust that everything will work out, remembering that I know how to cultivate the peace of God. Remembering that I know that I believe that people are good and loving and wonderful and sometimes they screw up as a try to live that out and honor that.

Mornings have been a tenuous, difficult experience for me. This often makes days difficult. If I’m lucky I will have a moment of remembering those good things and get re-connected to who I really am, but some days those moments don’t happen.

I have to figure out a way to help myself remember those things each morning.

Otherwise, I will probably do what I try to do to survive this shit train each morning, which is to stay numb, stay disconnected from what matters to me, stay distracted, or stay asleep.

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