It was the equivalent of restless leg syndrome, but with my life.
I remember getting in my car, and without much thought, I just started driving. I wasn't really sure where I was headed. I just knew I needed a change of scenery. As I drove, clarity began to set in. I wasn't really trying to drive towards something, as much as I was trying to drive away from something else.
That something was my birthday. Even though I wouldn't be celebrating it for six months, I was dreading it. It wasn't as much dread about turning another year older, I mean that's life. Rather, my birthday represented a handful of hopes and dreams that were still unrealized. Three years earlier, when I moved to Fresno, I was optimistic for what this new season would hold. I dreaded celebrating another birthday with a sense of same-ness. I dreaded disappointment. Restlessness creeped in.
My pragmatic solution: not celebrating my birthday.
I began brainstorming ways to do this. I landed on 'being out of the country', even though it was the equivalent of being in a crowded room and feeling like no one was there if I closed my eyes.
Now, I realize that short of owning a Delorean, skipping my birthday was not an option. At some point, namely on my birthday, I'd have to reconcile this reality. Enter the restless life syndrome moment six months ago.
On that drive, I found my way to a lake. It was the closest lake outside of town. (I had a meeting that afternoon, so I had only allotted myself a few hours for my minor-grade breakdown.)
As I pulled up, I saw the sign: Welcome to Lost Lake.
My pragmatic solution: not celebrating my birthday.
I began brainstorming ways to do this. I landed on 'being out of the country', even though it was the equivalent of being in a crowded room and feeling like no one was there if I closed my eyes.
Now, I realize that short of owning a Delorean, skipping my birthday was not an option. At some point, namely on my birthday, I'd have to reconcile this reality. Enter the restless life syndrome moment six months ago.
On that drive, I found my way to a lake. It was the closest lake outside of town. (I had a meeting that afternoon, so I had only allotted myself a few hours for my minor-grade breakdown.)
As I pulled up, I saw the sign: Welcome to Lost Lake.
Well, that felt about right.
I spent a few hours there. I was only one of a handful of people at Lost Lake that day. It was quiet...still...peaceful. I walked around, sat by the water, pondered and at one point just freed myself to tell God whatever I was feeling. There may have been some choice words and a couple tears. A hot mess, but honest.
I spent a few hours there. I was only one of a handful of people at Lost Lake that day. It was quiet...still...peaceful. I walked around, sat by the water, pondered and at one point just freed myself to tell God whatever I was feeling. There may have been some choice words and a couple tears. A hot mess, but honest.
At some point, I left the lake and began to head home. Not resolved, but ready to return.
Over the past six months, the dread has mostly dissolved. Next Friday, I will turn another year older. I am actually looking forward to it. Rather than be 'out of the country', I will head to the coast with some of my best friends.
And I will celebrate. I have much to be thankful for. I have much to be hopeful for. I have great friends to celebrate with.
And, celebrate we will.
Over the past six months, the dread has mostly dissolved. Next Friday, I will turn another year older. I am actually looking forward to it. Rather than be 'out of the country', I will head to the coast with some of my best friends.
And I will celebrate. I have much to be thankful for. I have much to be hopeful for. I have great friends to celebrate with.
And, celebrate we will.
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