time to pause

I am sitting in on a balcony, overlooking north wildwood beach.  Our rented apartment is ab.so.lute.ly 1970s-beach-tastic with faded teal carpeting, a huge off-center overhead drum light with a trailing chain, and some gold painted accents on the wicker furniture.  But we are beachfront, and the sliding door to our wide fifth-floor balcony stays open all day, bringing the low roar of the ocean in.  I thank God for the truly awful interior that made this perfectly-located home affordable for us this week.

This week, we are on pause.

No toddler drama, thanks to a kind and generous Grammie.  No work pressure, thanks to a few weeks of vacation situated between graduation and the start of a new job.  No financial stress (!), thanks to the promise of a newly-sized paycheck that will come just before our current credit card bill is due.  This is the truest pause I have had in years.  To say it feels great is a huge understatement.  It feels better than words can describe.

Often, when I pause long enough to really engage my own heart, I am overwhelmed by the need for a complete internal overhaul.  I feel like I’m looking at the inside of the place were renting.  The core belief system is discolored and faded. The automatic responses are off-center and chained to things I don’t even believe.  The habits feel dingy and tired.  And I feel overwhelmed.  Where do I begin to get back on track?  I don’t just need an update - I need internal demolition.

I am re-reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, and feeling like my soul just had it’s first cup of coffee in a decade.  When things get too busy, too hectic, I simply stop listening.  I forget that there is more than just surviving.  I forget that there is a story being told with my life, and that while the Writer wants it to be a certain kind of amazing story, I as the character can be obstinate and uncooperative and write boring, tedious BS all day long.

In the pause, I am trying to listen to the Voice again, in the big and in the mundane. This week, may our lives become a story that we are engaged in, that we are excited to live.

This week, may we remember how to listen.