The Presentation

 

The Presentation of Jesus at the Temple

Feeling like that vulerable days-old baby. Brought to the temple of the Lord to be the bearer of extraordinary news (Image courtesy of St. John the Bapstist Catholic Church in Corpus Christi, Texas)

This has been a rough year = Overstatement of the yearToday I went to mass, as I do every Sunday. During the offertory song all the pain of 24 years of petrifying fear and disapointment poured from my eyes.

There have been many times when I’ve cried at mass, often during song. But today was different. Tears were pouring, pouring and part of me was terrified that my weaknesses would be put on exhibition. The other part of me was tired of hiding.

I’m tired of the facade because it is a lie.

And now that I am here, living on my own, I have no excuse to hide. I can no longer hinge my failures on other people. I have to own my failures as opportunities to learn not just for what I was unable to do/say/accomplish.

I need to open myself up to more failure, not to satiate a somewhat masochistic part of myself, but to come to terms with what I DON’T want. That’s the way I’ve always learned, I guess. I don’t know why I thought this year I could miraculously learn otherwise.

In a world where people are defined by our resume, it happens all to often that we forget how it is we got there. And how it is we can move forward. How indeed?

Now that I’m getting married, it’s hard not to evaluate my worth in the same way. How much money am I making? (at least I don’t have any student debt to carry). Today, I cried before the altar, in mid-song, because now, more than ever. I’m willing to let people see behind the wall. Throughout this year, I’ve been chipping away at it. But now it’s all or nothing. No more caution.

No more front.