Restlessness

Chiefly arising from a childish frustration in which all the grand spectrum of my maturity was exposed as the incomplete puzzle that it is, I felt rather put out this morning. What reasons I might blame for the vile and contemptibly unwelcome spirit I had this morning, I cannot quite say. But, regardless, I may say with shame and regret that I was feeling much anxious and impatient and silly today. Do you ever have those moments when you feel rather idiotic? That you sit there, comatose, drunkenly in a stupor of over-thinking? Where is the off button for the female brain!

I admit, for all my projections of peace and joy, I struggle with a barbarous enemy of restlessness… I feel so antsy to experience everything. I want to see the world. I want to travel to the Grand Canyon. I want to see mountains and great forests. I want to fall asleep on the beach. I want to go to Scotland again. I want to see the Pacific Ocean… I want to see the Hollywood sign. I want to travel on Route 66. I want to see a tornado. I want to touch an elephant. I want to see the northern lights. I want to gallop upon a horse. I want to trek across New Zealand and look for Mt. Doom. As I grow older and more romantically minded I begin to behold God’s creation in such breathtaking awe. I want to experience it all! I feel like half a person, stuck dreaming about the world instead of actually adventuring out into it.  

I feel so anxious to fall in love and live out my Jane Austen-like dreams… the more I see of young men in the world, the more disappointed I am in them. I now understand a teaspoon of what true love must really feel like. It must be a selfless, sincere, pure sort of devotion, a deep and intricate desire to know the well-trodden paths within their mind and the bold chivalry to walk a million miles for the one you love… and even further, I believe love, honest, pure, absolutely true love requires the selflessness to give the other person what they want most…even if that means letting them go. I’ve not yet experienced this kind of love, for sure. Of course boys are swept up in a fireworks spell over my pretty words, or my pretty hair, or my shy spirit—but that means nothing to me.

You might conclude that when the first rich, charming gentleman who is wild about me enters into my life I should jump into his arms and script the finale of my adventures of singlehood. But it seems the older I get, the more unsatisfied I become with the shallow, empty ways of the world and the more I am convinced that only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony. (Did I just quote Jane Austen? Oh, yes, I believe I did). Do you tire of the world? I do. Where they offer a shortcut, I seek the surreptitious twists and secrets of a fairy forest. Where the world offers a glaring neon sign, I seek the blazon canvas of one of God’s magnificent sunsets… When the world offers the chalice of fame, pleasure, and fortune I drink in quiet dreams of peacefulness and a simple desire to do what God has set before me.

 

The more I realize my dreams the more I realize how impossible they seem. Do you ever feel like that? So many pretty things inside and no one can comprehend them. For once it might be grand, to have someone understand that I want so much more than they’ve got planned.

(Did I just quote Beauty and the Beast? Why, yes…yes I did.)