I sit here at the doctor’s office patiently and not-so-patiently waiting for my turn. I hate waiting. Anybody who knows me well enough knows I’m always on the go, always picking up new books to read and new projects to work on. As a result, my life is one huge jumble of unfinished books put down because they bored me to death and unfinished projects that got ignored because I got another idea I need to work on right away.  

Anyway, I confuse myself sometimes. On one hand, I’m perfectly okay with keeping things messy. That’s just how we creative people are like, and the mess is where a lot of the magic of life emerges. But on the other hand, the highly logical, rational, dry-as-toast part of my mind just wants to keep things organized into neat little boxes and labeled with Sheldon Cooper’s neat little label-maker so that I know where to look and what to work on at precisely what time of the day. Oh, what my mind would give for an organized little life!  

And I guess that all goes with the confusion I feel around stability and order and authority. On one hand, I’m the rule-breaker nobody expected. I’m the girl saying all the crazy things—all the crazy things you all know are true, by the way, but are too damned scared to even entertain inside your heads—and just taking this “say what you mean, mean what you say” thing to a whole different level.

But on the other hand, I secretly pride myself in being such a good, good girl,. The girl who follows all the rules, the girl who’s always nice, the girl who always does things people ask from her. I feel like I’m being pulled into opposite directions most of the time. One part of me is a rebel who just wants to overthrow the system and take over because why not? Another part of me just wants someone else to take charge because, for the most part, I’ve been unwillingly taking charge for a large part of my life.  

Times like this, I’d slow down to a halt and let the confusion take over. I stop writing my heart out. I stop giving life my all. I just stop being who I truly am and give in to the confusion. It rarely ever passes, to be honest. I just get so angry at myself for allowing something as simple and solvable as my contrasting personality traits derail me from my mission of changing the world that I use all the anger as a fuel for my writing sprints that fizzle out after a week or two then start again. That’s how I’ve been operating for the most part.  

Yet I know things have to change. They already are. They always have. If I want this as badly as I say I do, I have to be willing to give it everything I have. Everything, including the things I always believed I don’t have but actually have a fuck-ton of, like strength and courage and a bold acceptance of life and all it has to offer. Yes, I know we don’t really have to do anything to achieve our dreams. God, the Universe, whatever you call your Higher Power, has everything all sorted out.  

But we’re also human. God made us intentionally so, not to punish us, but so that we can also do the things we think only a god that’s separate from us can do. Because the crazy-heretical truth we all already know but refuse to truly face is that God is not out there hanging out by the stars or on top of mountains or inside churches. God has always been with us and in us all along. Look at yourself in front of the mirror. Look, look, look!!! That’s what God looks like. That’s God right there.  

We hear sermons from the pulpit saying God is in us. He’s in the neighbor with the dog that won’t stop barking and the rags-to-riches politician who let his fame get to his head. God is in the woman at the clinic who can’t stop complaining about her aches and pains and the man who doesn’t know how to comfort her. God is in everyone, so we should learn to love everyone. But in the process of trying to love everyone, lift everyone up, see the good in everyone, we forget one teeny, tiny little thing.  

God is in us too. God is us too. God chose to make us human so that, in the midst of all our human strife and struggle, we can see God. We chose to be human, to experience this strife and this struggle, so we can see ourselves, get to know what we’re capable of, and become all that we can become. All the little things that set us back? There’s very little we need to do about them. We just have to step into all of who we are.