~random thoughts in march~

I lay in bed the past hour or so unable to sleep, my mind coursing with thoughts of life in the past couple weeks. People. Places. Music. Toddlers. Animals.

Life stories of others.

The father who gambled away his family's earnings. The lady who lost her husband to cancer and his pets that remain ticking away the days. The teenager who has siblings helping him through panic attacks.

Stories behind the stories. Stories within the stories.

My own stories.

Like two weekends ago when my son and I were hiking 15 miles on the island, planning to arrive back at camp around midnight. Never did we imagine that I'd have to call 911 and have a ranger come to our aid at 9:30 in the dark. The ranger's name was, still is, Shad - after Shadrach in the Bible.

Shad was awesome, assuring my son and I that we had done the right thing by calling and to not be embarrassed. Even Shad himself, who was in charge of back country rescue for 10 years in Alaska, flying planes into deserted territory in the arctic extremes - even he had gotten lost for 3 days once in his own park. Of course he had millions of acres. My son and I were on the small island. My biggest fear when my son got lost was the alligators; we had just seen two a couple hours earlier.

I lay in bed tonight thinking of when I may write about the island trip.

I lay thinking about the dogs I'd walked this week. About the children with whom I'd sang and danced. About the art that still needs to be packed this weekend, and payments that need to be tallied.

I lay thinking about the retraction regarding my ex-therapist, the decision I made to publicly post it this week. Some of the anxiety has eased from that scenario. I'm still left with residual self-doubt. Self-doubt. One of my plagues for decades, my inner gremlin poking at me leaving my heart jostled. "Have I revealed too much? What should I reveal? What shouldn't I reveal? Who can I trust? If I don't reveal the evidence, then I may look like a fool. If I do reveal the evidence, then I may look like a low life exposing another's dirty laundry."

As I sat with my current counselor this week reading to him from my journal, I read, "I have not falsely accused. I have evidence for everything I have reported." He agreed. He is about as objective as anyone I know.

I think I'm coming to the conclusion that I still believe there is a creator. I thought the other day that perhaps I am a detheist, a combination of a theist and a deist. But I don't think the two can be combined. If I don't blame God for my problems, how can I pray to God to help me fix them? To me, if a god intervenes with help for me, I'm grateful. But I don't expect intervention.

Gratitude is a great equalizer.