my still life is no longer still

It’s been 5 years.

It's been 5 years of longing for more.  Longing for the ability to do more.

And now, I have it.  I have the more.

But what did I lose, by gaining more?

I lost the time to write these blogs.

And that kills me.  

Because there was once a time where these were all I had.

But now that I am in school full-time, all my focus seems to go to that, rather than my own creativity.

Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I am an English major after all…so writing is kind of part of the gig.  But it’s just different.  And I feel like I’ve lost that part of me because of it.

Divided attention.

I wished away the years of my life I spent sick and alone.

Now, some days, I wish for them back. 

I don’t wish for the pain and isolation, but I long for the freedom, the chance to think, feel, and create whatever I want to.

Back then, it felt like a punishment. 

I didn’t want all that time alone.  I didn’t want to be confined to a room, with nothing I had to do.

I wished for more.

And now that I have it, 

I wish for less.

I got really good at being alone.  And, though I would have never admitted it, part of me enjoyed it.  

I enjoyed no one telling me what to do, or where to be.  I had no obligations, and although most times that was saddening, it also gave me the time to be myself and do what I loved, to whatever capacity that I could.

I read, I journaled, I wrote.

I played video games, I painted, I prayed.

And though I never lost those things completely, they are now distant in my life.

Like an old friend who moved away, but comes back around for the holidays. 

And let me tell you how I got here.

I could.

It’s because I could.

My body began to heal.  I began to step back into life.  I started saying yes.

And I forgot how to say no.

Though, maybe I didn’t forget, but rather was afraid to. 

Because I got my life back.  And who knows if it could be stripped away from me again.

I live in a constant state of “fear of missing out” because I did miss out.  For so long.  And I am terrified that it is going to happen again.

So I filled up my life with all these good things.

And, because of that, I lost many great things. 

Aside from sleeping, I have been home a total of 14 hours this week.

What have I been doing?

Class, work, seeing friends, attending meetings, going on runs, watching the sunset.

Because I need to fill up every hour of my day or else I am not fulfilled.

At least, that’s what I’ve taught myself.

But there was once a time where I only left my house for 14 hours a week.

And I fear it is because of that that I live in this state of constant need to do more.

The ruthless elimination of hurry

By John Mark Comer

Ask me how many times I’ve read that book.

Ask me when was the first time I read that book.

Four.

May 2022.

When I was still longing for more.  More that I could not yet get.

When I first read it, I thought it was silly because if anything, I could use more hurry in my life.  

But my body didn’t have the ability.  

Actually, I was in the hospital just a few weeks before I picked up that book.

Trust me, physically, I had no capacity for hurry.

The book still resonated, though, as I’m sure it will through each season of life.

But now, I really am in a hurry.  And I fear that not only do I not want to stop…

I don’t know how to stop.

I have noticed that I drive fast, even when I’m not late. (Sorry dad)

I have caught myself many times, driving my car pushing the pedal down, heart racing, while having nowhere to be.

Nothing I’m late to, nothing I’m missing.

But my brain doesn’t know that.  My body doesn’t feel that.

I am conditioned to hurry.

Because I should be in a rush.

There is always some place to be.

How could I slow down?

I stay up late,

And I wake up early.

But there was once a time I slept into the afternoon.

There was once a time I had nothing to wake up for.

Now I can no longer sleep in.

My days are filled to the brim.

I leave early,

I get home late.

I am fulfilled.

Right? 

This is the life I always longed for.

Why is it not enough?

August 29, 2025

Life changed.

And I had the choice to slow it down, or speed it up.

And I decided to speed it up.

I was already at a pace that was pushing my limits.

Then God did a full 180 with my life.

And rather than use that loss as a tunnel back to Him,

I decided to fill my time even more and run from it.

I didn’t see anything wrong with it, because after all, I spent so long missing out on things, why not take advantage of the fact that I am back?  

I can do this now.

Clearly, this is better than the life I had 5 years ago.

Yet, it doesn’t feel quite right.

I don’t feel fulfilled.

But I don’t want to stop.  Because something about slowing down is scary.

Slowing down means I have to feel things.

And when I was bedridden, I felt everything, and I felt it all so deeply.

And that's a scary thing to go back to.

But it’s also important.

Because in the deepest depths of my feelings, was where God met me the most.

That is where my relationship with Him grew. 

So of course, like normal Mackenzie fashion, I crashed.  My body crashed.

I think that God uses my health (or, more so, lack of it) as a reminder of my limitations. 

When I get too carried away, and start thinking I can do it all without Him, He never fails to prove me wrong.

He lets me crash.  Not because He isn’t good, but because He knows what my heart truly needs.

Him, and to be alone with Him.

It is still a work in progress.  I can’t sit here and tell you I’ve mastered it.

But tonight I sat here alone. 

I chose to.

I chose Him.

And I’m thankful every day that He will always choose me back.