Running and writing keeps me relatively sane. (I have to keep a little bit of my “crazy” to keep you entertained.) I don’t do either of the two activities particularly well, but running and writing helps me to escape one world and enter another.
The problem is I don’t often allow people to enter that world with me. I guess I wanted my writing to be perfect before anyone can see it. I wanted to run fast and be fit enough before I would allow anyone to join me on the road. But the desire to be perfect spilled over into other areas of my life too. I always had this idea that I have to, or want to be the best version of myself for someone or the people I love. I guess it’s a nice gesture but sometimes you have to accept the version you are right now, right?
Most of us are familiar with the famous Sam Keen quote ‘We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.’ Easier said than done. Especially when we are blinded by our own iniquities and mistakes.
Like most 30 year old somethings – I’ve developed a fear of commitment because of past failures. I am afraid of being loved. Firstly because I am not the perfect me yet and secondly because love “forces” you to become vulnerable. And man, when the vulnerability bubble burst, things get real.
I’ve always said that I want to love the hell out of people. But loving people not only brings the best out of people but it has the potential to bring the worst out of them too. And when that bad stuff transpires — praise God it’s coming out because then you actually have something to work with. One of my favourite encouragements to those I love would always be the following: “Let the shit of the past be compost for the beautiful flowers that will grow in your future”
Dirt, hurt, pain, suffering, imperfections, the list goes on…are things we often like to hide. Hiding them, actually makes loving yourself and others more difficult.
I haven’t posted anything on my blog in ages — mainly because I was frustrated that my writing is not flawless. But neither am I.
After my friend Teresa notified me that my blog was spitting out spam like a possessed cobra – I decided that maybe it’s time to delete all the old posts and start over. But this time, my posts will be real, unapologetically myself and transparent about the journey I am on — and that my dear friends is to really get to know (not the candy-coated version I was taught) the Man who is capable of loving imperfect me, perfectly. He is a bit “crazy” too. Crazy enough to love me and crazy enough to die for me — yep love makes you do crazy things.
My mission statement has always been to find the perfect story. I believe every person has a story to tell and I wanted to tell their story. It has changed slightly over the years – I believe the greatest stories come from imperfect people, and I want to hear their stories as I allow it to shape and challenge my story…
So this is me, full of flaws, dirty and sometimes a little bit crazy. But I would love to hear from you and hear your story as I attempt to write my own.
Racking up mile after mile is difficult, mind-expanding, and sometimes even mesmerizing—just like putting words down on paper. The unwavering accumulation of strides I take to become a fitter and faster me mirrors the accumulation of pages of self discovery, and both forms of regimented endeavor yield a sense of contentment in my spirit…to keep on going on…to be real and to be free to be me…
My apologies for the previous spam.
Until the next post…
Currently listening to: Oh Wonder – Drive