Some of you will come along with, and some of you won't because moving can be like that. The sticky people sometimes surprise you, and the ones who fall away fade slowly and leave little ghost images of themselves on your soul. I know because I've moved before.
I'm moving to a new blog because it's time, and it's important. But I want to try to explain why it matters. Sometimes, no, often times, I feel broken because it's been three years. Three. Entire. Years. since life went so far off the plotted course, and I think I should really be "over it" by now. I do. Most days are like backstroking under clear azure skies, but there are still some days that I'm dancing ballet in quicksand, and I want to hide under my favorite blanket where no one can find me forever and ever and ever. I'm that kind of broken.
I've been wrestling with this problem for some months quite intensely, wondering if it isn't time to move fully on, wondering more how the heck exactly I will that into reality, because believe me, I want it. I want to be rid of, done with, completely over that shame and hurt. I'd trade untold riches to obtain it. But as much as I want it, I can't make it happen any faster than it's currently unfolding.
My sistah Laura, a most amazing woman, shared a blog with me last week: Shame is a Prison and I'm Breaking Out. Personally, I think you should read the whole thing, but if you don't, at least read this one paragraph:
That first meeting with the pastor, nearly 3 years ago now, began an ongoing fight against my own fear of being shamed, rejected, and branded a threat again. It is getting better now, but I still sense it with nearly everything I post. That church tried to shut me down and control me with intimidation (church discipline is no small thing). It was all about power and control, and what I’ve realized is that this was rooted in fear.It's entirely possible that she crawled right into my head and pulled these words out of my brain. Yes this, this is exactly how it feels, still, three years later. This. And it's time to move away from this, to take another step out into the light from that dark and overshadowing day. When I moved here, to Deepening Years, it's because I had to hide. I had been cut-off and was not allowed to contact anyone from my church community, nor they us. Even when that time was ended, I still was hiding. "My own fear of being shamed, rejected and branded a threat again" followed me from Florida to Georgia, from one blog to the next. It's quieter now, but it still lurks behind the words that make it to the page, and behind the words that don't make it, because many times those words can't hurdle the fear. I've written things here that were (and are) sheer agony to reveal, like ripping my skin off and leaving exposed nerve to deal with the response. It's been a necessary place, a safe place, a building place, but I think it was always only temporary.
I'd like to say I'm done with fear and shame, but that wouldn't be true. What I am is done with letting it be what keeps my words from having a voice. I'm done hiding and I want something shiny, fresh and new. I've chosen a name:
It's not quite ready for public traffic yet, but we're getting there. I'm completely ecstatic. I hope you'll travel with me to this next stage in life.