If I said there was something more… would you believe me, girl?


large-3

Sometimes I wish you could be my Polly Pocket.

Not my blog reader, not my friend, but my Polly Pocket. I wish you could be less than an inch tall so that I could carry you with me always and you could see the world beside me and we could talk deep into midnight about all the things our little sockets of hazel and blue saw that day. And then we could wake up and do it all over again. You, and me, and your cute little plastic outfits.

I’d be so good to you if you were mine.

I would’ve propped you up on the dashboard of my car and let you man the Spotify stations as we drove and drove and drove until we lost track of the roads and street lights. I would have given you fresh Tennessee air. I would have let you nearly drown in a glorious vat of sweet tea. I would’ve sat you straight on the railing of a boat as we cruised out to the center of a lake in Northern Georgia and watched fireworks shoot up in the air. Together, we would have celebrated freedom and the summer air.

You’d get to watch the world with me. You’d see the wrinkles, and hear the stories, and I’d never have to tell you anything you didn’t already know. If you were always with me, we could process every bit of this confusing, wild thing in the flesh while we layed beneath a blanket of stars and tried whispering to a God who is both a knitter and a maker.

There is 860 miles between you and I that I don’t know how to tell you about.

It’s as if I traveled far away and came back different and I’m forced to try to explain to you this new skin I am standing in. I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know where to begin. The experience feels too ripe to pluck just yet. It’s all still resting in single words that have yet to meet their sentencey soul mates: Goodness. Hospitality. Home. Sanctuary. Rest. Laughter. Chik-Fil-A. Peace. Rain. Contentment.

Before this, the first instinct was to share and share and share. And overshare. And add a filter to that. And nail the right angle with that. And to announce to the world that I am having a good time, and that I wish you were here, and too bad you’re not, but I am having a good time anyway.

And then life happens. And people get real. And stories get shared. And secrets get told. And hands get held. And tears get shed. And we all realize the thing we knew ten years ago in the middle of our gadgetless little existence– it was never about the networks. It was never about the followers. It was never about the approval of where you were and what you were doing or who you were with. But it was always about the relationships you could foster in the flesh far more than a fluid invitation into every moment that looked filtered, and pretty, and perfect on the screen.

 

“If I told you to pull back… if I said there was something more… would you believe me, girl?”

It’s almost like I could hear God speaking that single question into my ear over & over again as I soaked in the southern hospitality that only comes from people who learn to care about you before you ever even walk through their door. You’ve been a living prayer to them all along. You’ve rested heavy on their hearts for all eternity and a day. ( And yes, God sounds very much like the memes of Ryan Gosling in this moment but we can analyze that strangeness some other day.)

But I can feel Him pushing me. Pushing me to pull back into relationships that hold me together at the seams in a way I’ve grown nostalgic for. The kinds of relationships I don’t want to clutter or talk about too loudly. I want them to stay simple and true because that is the way they’ve always been to me. The kind of people who I keep in my grip because I am admittedly so, so afraid, in a partially unexplainable way, that if I look away they’ll be gone. I won’t have them any longer. I’ll be grabbing for dust.

The kind of people who take me for who I am and never ask me to be different. Because who I was yesterday was good enough always.

If it takes unplugging, and escaping, and driving down the coast to Somewhere Else for me to get back intact with that then it’s probably, certainly something I should have never lost to begin with. It’s probably really important. It’s probably something I should always keep in my eye’s view so that it never gets misplaced for too long.

Admitting that is a starting point. It ain’t no cut-me-a-piece-of-cake-and-call-it-easy-sauce alteration. It’s not the flicking of the light switch. It’s not the waking up different tomorrow. It’s a slow and steady process. It’s weeding things out of your life to keep and make room for others you hope will arrive soon. It’s shutting off more. It’s stepping back more. It’s being present more in a way that hurts when you can’t turn to the screen for comfort and escape.

It’s not pretty. It’s not sensical. But it’s like reaching the end of the yellow brick road, pulling back the curtain, and realizing Oz ain’t it. He just ain’t it. And yet you’ve been given the chance to click those ruby reds and start over again… you came this far,  it’s not too late to start over again, girl.

About these ads

8 Comments

Filed under Best Friends, Live with intention

8 responses to “If I said there was something more… would you believe me, girl?

  1. i love this, reevaluating friendships has been on my mind a lot lately, and sadness over some changing ones…wish they were as important to some as they are to me, but other things get in the way, and you can’t control that for others, only yourself….thanks for sharing your thoughts…

  2. Julieta Hernandez

    girl you have reached my heart and put your words right in my mind. All you have said is the truth about how I see things. I have given myself to friendships tied from head to toe in lavender ribbons, not expecting anything in return and stabbed in my back but never have held back because sometimes i am rewarded with loyalty and same way of thinking. I have been generous with quality of time, advice if asked for, and material things which do not matter to me much. I could live without appliances because I have 2 good hands to cut and dice and cook and draw and paint and sew. We have the good light of the day in this glorious summer with long days to dream and plan good things to do for others, gardening to get the good things the earth gives us, beautiful flowers and produce to live and eat better and to glorify our days and love, yes much love even to those who do’t love themselves so they can’t love others and reach out to them patiently,like taming a colt, one day forward and one day backwards, slowly gaining their trust, for them to believe there is a world out there with good people ready to help no matter what. It goes down to families who love each other unconditionally. That is the way I was luckily loved and pampered and in return I have tried (because sometimes people do not believe they are worth to be loved) to make the world around me a little better. At work, a very stressful one, making others laugh and feel they count and celebrating their birthdays and accomplishments and praising their skills and day by day making them believe in themselves because I believe in myself and everybody can do it with a little encouragement.
    I bow to you, Hannah to make it possible for people like me to tell you my inner thoughts and I would like to know what else could I do for others within my abilities. As I wrote to you I can interpret and translate. What would help your organization and in what capacity can I help?
    Thank you so much for listening and God bless you.
    Julieta Hernandez
    julieta4romeo@gmail.com

  3. Oh my heart. You probably have a lot of people telling you this but if you ever are awake at 3am wondering if what you’re doing makes a difference or is worth the fight or if you’re even good at it…. It does, it is, and you are.

  4. sarahspezia

    Oh my heart. You probably hear this from a lot of people but if you’re ever awake at 3 am wondering if what you’re doing makes a difference or if it’s worth the fight or if you’re good at it…. it does, it is, and you are.

  5. On my own spiritual journey on day2 of Ramadan and just went loop the loop with your insightful, truthful, poetic words. Thank you.

  6. Ditto on Sarah’s comment :)

  7. Pingback: channeling my inner Hannah B. | Resilient Beauty

  8. “it was never about the networks. It was never about the followers. It was never about the approval of where you were and what you were doing or who you were with. But it was always about the relationships you could foster in the flesh far more than a fluid invitation into every moment that looked filtered, and pretty, and perfect on the screen. ” YES. That is one of the number reasons I continue to blog, to reach out and meet new people, to visit those people face to face because in person, with hugs and nerves and so much goodness, that is where the magic of this online world comes together. It’s one of my favorite pieces of the internet to this day. That and we all come together when we need to, for others, for ourselves; we are supportive and kind and real and people!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s