I just experienced one of those ghost feelings that comes accompanied with an image. I’m huddled in a room, with a blanket close to my ear, maybe 4 years old. I look a little lethargic– my skin the color of old oatmeal, all color washed away. I’ve probably been echoing on the inside. I’m trying to figure out why everybody is celebrating me. My great aunts are all there, as are all my aunts and uncles from my mother and father’s side. I sit and stare– not feeling any of the joy they exude, not sharing or participating– just an outsider looking into my own party– wondering why all the commotion.

I feel the same way now.

They’re planning a 50th birthday party for me– and I feel like that same kid in the blanket , wondering what they’re celebrating — especially when I don’t even have a job nor any status any longer. It’s just me, as myself, doing work that I believe is important–and overlooked. What good’s that? My skills and perspectives are likely useless– and could probably be carbon dated for how old they are. Sure, while the works completed for others are seen as good– and I have gratitude for helping– I myself have done little of the work I’m called to do. I write a lot, and read, and create– but very little of it is useful.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve gotten in the way of God’s plan for me. You’d think at 50 you’d know well that it’s easy to be your own obstacle. That’s what the egos job is– creating and curating the image you put into the world– then to maintain it, or else be rejected– which is its own kind of death– all the while it sacrifices elements of your true self to the shadow.

It’s the kind of dying I’m incorporating into my life now– and it’s a loss I haven’t quite felt before. Yes, people who I’ve been close to have died, but this feels entirely like something different. Without the role and income, you doubt your value to family, to those who once called you a friend, and then there’s the wife– the love of your life– who may not accept this unfiltered version, focused on his inner work.

This is the riskiest thing I’ve done. I’m excited, I’m scared, but I have faith. While it took some uncluttering to become empty enough to receive, my ears and heart are open to direction.