Friday, September 26, 2014

This eccentric old soul




All it takes, some days, is sitting with a group of women talking about their careers or their adventures in parenting, pregnancy or nursery decor themes, the ins and outs of real estate or where they shop for clothes, to realize I'm a bit of an oddball. An "old soul," I've been called.

Because I am. Just a bit.

Me, with my downward mobility 'career' in a coffee shop. With kids not in the plans or dreams for the future, at least not in this moment. While they're talking about baby clothes, I'm thinking about how we'll build a cool habitat for our tortoise and where I'll continue to find her steady supplies of dandelions through the colder months. Instead of dreaming of how we'll find a house in our price range in this neighborhood we currently rent in, I'm quietly longing to leave it all behind and move to Mexico. To live in a simple, brightly painted adobe house with a garden and goats up in the moody, mountainous city of Guanajuato, living close to my husband's family, closer to the earth, immersed in creating art through my words. 

From our engagement photos - on a goat farm.
Me, who considers "wearing makeup" to mean the rare occasion I put on mascara and tinted lip gloss. Who shops at thrift stores and wears running shoes with skirts and loves hand-embroidered peasant blouses from Mexico. Who still believes I'm not too old for splashing in puddles with rain boots, playing in fountains, collecting children's books, believing in magical things.

I seem to forget, in my everyday face-to-face relationships, away from this place where writers find kindred spirits among quirky others, that most people don't talk to trees - or at least don't admit it. That they don't, every now and then, stop and place their hands on the rough trunk of a towering old tree and feel something deeper than words pass between them. Some unutterably holy spark of the eternal. 

When I'm talking with other people of faith and throw out words like "mystery" and "wonder" and "doubt" in the same sentence, of "reading the Word in the world," holding back those words describing moments when I experienced Jesus in a goose by the lake or a walk down a street, I feel it in their blank stares. 

And that's okay, because we're all a little odd and different in our own ways, right? Even as we are all a little like each other, maybe more than we care to admit.  These revelations of my particular oddities resound each time a little clearer tune.

Because I'm perfectly okay, at the age of thirty-three, being just a little bit eccentric.

* * * * * 

Linking with Kate and the Five-minute Friday community, to the prompt of "Because."

 



 


17 comments:

  1. Oh, I love this today. I feel like we must be kindred spirits! Only I am older, and have raised lots of kids. My hair is grey, I almost never wear makeup, and we own chickens and have a garden. I did move out of the city, and I love it. It brings me peace. I love talking about the wonder of God and all of His tender mercies. Thank you for this one today, in spite of all our differences, we are each loved and valued and wanted and blessed.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think we must be, too... I am sure grateful for kindred spirits from all walks of life. Maybe one day I'll even be able to meet you on that farm of yours and see those chickens and talk about where we've been on our journeys :-)

      Delete
  2. We're nearly FMF neighbors today, friend. Love you just as you are -- oddness and all. Makes it Ok for me to be different, too. Which makes us the same in our differences. Which is really all we're looking for sometimes. Someone willing to be their own brand of odd while loving my oddness, too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This is spot on, Beth: "Someone willing to be their own brand of odd while loving my oddness, too." It's one of the sweet gifts of true friendship, I think. Thank you for loving my brand of odd - and right back at you. Though I must say, I look forward to seeing more of your particular oddness with time - I'm not sure you wear it on your sleeves as much as I do, so perhaps I need to be on the lookout for it in subtler forms ;-)

      Delete
  3. I'm stopping by from FMF - just behind you. :) What a celebration of "free to be you." How often we forget that He makes us who we are on purpose. Well, at least I tend to.
    Thanks for this!
    Jen :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm learning this celebration of "free to be me", but it hasn't been as easy a journey as I would like it to be... We do forget he makes us the way we are, don't we? Thank you for your kind words.

      Delete
  4. I enjoyed reading your because entry today...being you...loving what God gave you to love...goats, trees and Mexico...makes me smile...thanks for stopping by nourishment for the soul...I love mystery and magic and think these two came from the imagination of our Great Creator!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for sharing the smile with your words :-) I love the imaginative nature of God, too, and have been learning to delight in this more and more.

      Delete
  5. What a beautiful you God has created! :)

    ReplyDelete
  6. What a beautiful post, as usual, Amber! Your words always move me so deeply. I hope God makes a way for you to fulfill your dreams of moving to Mexico...sounds like it beckons you and has a strong pull on your heart. You eccentricities (is that a word?) make you the special person you are....they make you the rare, precious soul who relates to so many of us who read and soak in your words. God bless you!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Cheryl, your words are always so beautifully affirming of me - more generous and gracious than I ever expect. Thank you, friend. Thank you. For loving me as I am.

      Delete
  7. loved this Amber. Your words and your description of who you are make me smile. we are probably more different than alike, but having you around would be utterly delightful! BTW, I do love to walk in the rain, walk through mud puddles and fascinated by anything that makes water gurgle, like a fountain! And I do notice things most people don't notice. Love knowing that about you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Carol, Carol... you don't know how I sighed happily when I saw your name pop up here, your words, your presence. I've missed you. I've thought of you. I'm glad you're starting to come out of the crazy fog of recovery from surgery, though I know rehab is a longer journey. I think being around you would also be delightful. Maybe one day - who knows? ;-)

      Delete
  8. Oh how I relate to this life of quirk ball-ness. All those facets of you make you so utterly delightful, so fabulously unique. And isn't that the gift you really have to give to the world? The you God's created, showing up unashamed? Grateful to call you my friend.

    ReplyDelete