Intro

I usually blog over at Xanga but have been looking for a somewhat more anonymous spot in which to ramble and think. I'm not totally comfortable with telling my story, nor do I think most of my visitors would really be interested in it. Not that my story is embarrassing or that I have much dirty laundry to air. It's rather mundane; just my story. This will be my spot to think out loud, ramble along, change direction without prior notice, repeat myself as I find necessary, without feeling any need to be witty and humorous or profound and intellectual, not that I'm any of those things on a regular basis. I comment very little here at Blogger, so except for the random passerby or someone whose blog I have commented, no one who knows me knows I'm here - until I'm found. Anonymity. What an odd thought considering this is the internet.

At the age of 47 I find myself on a path that a decade ago I would have sworn in blood I would never travel, and I find myself very alone in this particular journey. I have a wonderful husband and family, but this is my journey. I would very much, at some point, love to share this with my husband, but right now it would make me feel more vulnerable. Also, I think it would make him uncomfortable. He doesn't think and ponder as I do. What has been a huge, guiding force in my life has not been one in his. He's a man; I'm a woman. We have different needs, different personalities. He would feel responsible to help me solve these issues even though I would assure him it isn't his responsibility. As much as I never thought I would be here, I am sure he never thought this would happen to his wife, either. I'm in the midst of a faith crisis.

I'll freely admit that being a middle aged, pre-menopausal woman probably has much to do with this. I don't find this a reason to sweep it under the rug and ignore it as best I can for the next 10 years or however long it might last. Also, there are other reasons I am where I am having little to do with my hormone fluctuations. Whatever the reasons, here I am, very much alone.

Right now at this point in my life I am without a woman friend. I've never been one to have many friends; one or two does quite nicely. But in the past I've always had several acquaintences - the kind you stop and visit with in the store, meet up with at park day, visit occasionally with on the phone - but most importantly I've always had a friend. The kind you sit down with at you kitchen table, the teapot between you full of Constant Comment or Earl Grey, a few cookies and several to talk, laugh and cry together. She is someone you could share your inner turmoil with and you wouldn't be embarrassed by the fact that your family is less than perfect: teenage problems, marriage problems, depression, grief, happiness, dreams. You could even share your faith crisis, honestly without having to choose words carefully. For me, however, my friend (and acquaintenaces) were are based on sharing the same religion. More importantly, sharing the perspective of that religion. So when I started to fall away, my friend fell away. I had become a danger to her soul.

And that brings me here. This blog will be my friend sitting across the table from me. I will enjoy my cup of tea, talk away unhindered, share thoughts and feelings. Of course, this friend lacks human warmth and love and the ability to converse with me. If along the way someone wants to leave a thought, please do. There is much to be learned from others who have forged their own spiritual path.