On My Way

2011-06-23T21:50:00.002-08:00

Mark Twain: "Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you too can become great. When you are seeking to bring big plans to fruition, it is important with whom you regularly associate. Hang out with friends who are like-minded and who are also designing purpose-filled lives. Similarly be that kind of a friend for your friends."

we begin again....

2010-09-22T20:40:00.005-08:00

while i don't think 6 months is a lengthy time by any stretch of the imagination, it feels like a lifetime has passed since i last posted...to read where i was and to know where i am now...so much has gone on...and so i thought it appropriate to begin again where we left off...
many previous postings have been about the lament of my love life, the torment and sometimes tumultuous existence i had as a single woman. and really it's been in these past 6 months that my life has changed profoundly and permanently. i no longer wish to be seen or known; i am known. i no longer want for things i could only dream of; my dreams have been met and entirely exceeded. i no longer hope that one day i will be loved and chosen; he chooses me and he loves me incredibly so. there is no hiding, no embarrassment, no fear, no pain, no trepidation, just love. this deep-seated, pure, unconditional, unabashed, limitless love for my other.

someone asked awhile ago who i would like to meet...my only response was 'a soul similar to mine, somewhere in the vicinity of my arms'.
and somehow that happened.

scatterings of thought/brain matter

2010-03-04T19:32:00.005-09:00

"Now let me say this. You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever had the privilege to be around. I mean it. There are very few men that can spot beauty from across the room and there are many women who half-ass it, but you, you radiate it."

Somehow, for some reason, the fact that the man who told me this has impaired vision and dementia didn't negate his compliment. There was a sweet persistent innocence about him that made his claim credible.
I hope for the day, not necessarily that I believe the above statement about myself, but that someday I'd be able to navigate between the lies and truths being told to me by others who have all their faculties.
I hate being deceived.
I'm exhausted by males who promise the future to get what they want in the present.
I'm someone who despite my experiences- both good and bad- I've somehow maintained my naivete...and I find myself thinking that since I wouldn't do something to a person, they surely wouldn't do it to me. So when I find out the compliment was a lie, the invitation on an adventure was empty, they judge my actions more harshly than they judge their own, or they aren't who they claim to be...most often, I'm blindsided by it.
I'm tired of falsity, being unfulfilled, being lied to, looked over, used...I just want someone who is believable, someone who will stop me from wasting all my love, someone who is trustworthy, someone who is worth the risk it takes to expose my heart, someone who takes the risk to choose me...
In other news, I decided I'd rather emanate love than beauty if I had to choose, but I do still wonder, why can't I have both? Or is it that since love is beautiful, if I emanate love, I emanate beauty?

anchored

2009-05-07T20:36:00.000-08:00

if it's not permanent; it's temporary.

and in this life, it seems even the things that were meant to be permanent have become temporary. nothing is forever: marriages dissolve, love stales, pregnancies aborted, residences destroyed, lives lost, memories fade, dreams abandoned...

but knowing this, i still crave permanence of sorts. nothing big and extravagant. not that it won't change in the future...just something that anchors me, that i anchor...

that desire is probably a big clue as to why i love my tattoos. they're a beautiful part of me. they make my story have significance. i created them and yet, they continue to create me. they are always with me, which i realize sounds redundant, but they are my story in ink. my life in pictures. my own personal anchors.

happiness

2009-03-01T17:16:00.000-09:00

I've found happiness again.
Do you ever have those things in your life, where all you really need is a shifting of your perspective?
Injuries happen, people change their minds, tell lies and do other things in an attempt to assuage their own pain. It's true. It's a part of life. The sad thing is for some, the injury becomes their only focus and in their myopic existence, they are devoured by what they have allowed to take precedence.
But not for me. There are too many good things for the taking. Too many possibilities floating around to not take a chance. Too many waves crashing on the shore to just watch; they beckon me to join in their joy.
Something subtle happened in the last few weeks and the pain I knew gave way to the joy I now know. I woke up one day and realized I was alright. My heart was still beating. It was no longer breaking or hurting. It was no longer an effort to get through a day. And so with that, I smiled and the strength that came with the realization of being better than fine allowed me to reach out and be brave. And with that bravery came bliss.
So truly, happiness is all around and there for the taking. It's beckoning us to join, it tempts us to hope and dream, it calls us to live a life that is focused on the silver lining without cowering in fear of the coming rain.

on another note...

2009-02-23T21:02:00.003-09:00

I've finally found a tattoo artist that is incredible. I sat for 3 hours the other night and he fixed the crappy tattoos that I've hated for the past few years. I will never again get ink from anyone else.
So happy.

In ironic news, apparently 'cutting and running' is a common theme for TV shows too...here's my favorite quote from this weeks shows that I watch...
"You do not get to just cut and run just because you're afraid of not knowing what comes next...It is not okay to just walk away and pretend like it doesn't matter! I mean to have something incredible and not even see what is right in front of your face...so what, everybody has issues. You need to be there for them, love them, grow up and be a man! You need to not hurt the woman who loves you."

...so there's my injury speaking. It's getting quieter and quieter though...give it time...

blame it on the rain...

2009-02-18T22:29:00.004-09:00

Is it weird that I don't think you're a bad person and almost feel bad for posting my thoughts on our relationship?
I don't know how the previous post makes you sound, but I truly don't think you're an ass. It wasn't written in anger or disgust; it was just the process my heart took to realize the lesson I had just been through.

Looking back on it, I realize that when you were the guy who treated me like his princess; the romantic and kinder version of you, I remember waiting for the other shoe to drop. I remember the flares of my cynicism being quelled by the constant outpouring of your intrigue, interest and concern for me. I remember marveling in wonderment at love and generally just being amazed and overwhelmed at the prospect that this was the real deal. And I remember being breathless...in such a blissful and perfect way.

So when your other side surfaced and I once again found myself in a relationship that was getting further away from 'healthy', I reverted to old ways of thinking. I went back to believing that it was how I deserved to be treated. I went back to thinking it was how relationships were supposed to be or how I was supposed to feel. And somehow I committed to it. Or I felt committed to it at least. And with that realization, it was a short-lived and quick downhill trip to misery.
And it was in that misery I looked at the relationship for what it had become...or maybe what it had been all along, I don't know...but I finally realized you were still in love with her. As a side note, I don't hate you for choosing her over me. I truly don't. I just wish you had been honest. That frustrates me. I hate lip service.
The part of me that was made the fool wishes I wouldn't have ignored the signs, but the majority of me wonders if they're signs because of hindsight...

ridiculous love...happy vday...

2009-02-11T16:30:00.004-09:00

here's the explanation i'll give for what's been going on...it's a smattering of clips of entries i've been writing for awhile, it’s not in order, nor is it anywhere near polished and ready for the public, but then again, what about me ever is?
please enjoy, hate, er, something...just read it and let me know what you think...

What happened? You portrayed this tender, kind, honest person...afraid on our first date of putting yourself out there too much, someone who had hurt and been hurt, trustworthy, strong, sensitive, open, seeking life and living life. You were comfortable, you were happy, you were healthy...and then you changed. You went from attentive, loving and kind to calloused, detached and cold.
The first change came in November…I cut you some slack because you had mentioned the holidays were stressful for you and you were already stressed about work and I assumed some of the changes I was seeing could be attributed to that. You wanted to cool down, so we did. But then December came and you became less and less attached to me. In fact, you would do things intentionally to push me away or leave me out. And when called on it, you wouldn’t even acknowledge it. I didn’t understand what happened; how you had became this shell of the person I knew before. And then when things didn’t improve, I gave you what you had been acting like you wanted- I gave us a break. You needed time to think. You said I confused you even more and so a break would be good to give you some space. So you took the break and cut off all communication with me. You ignored me even more than before. You blamed it on being stressed and tired. Surprise. And then for the finale, I broke it off with you. And you didn’t even respond. Well, 2 days later you did with an apology of some sort.
Clearly I played into your hand. How could I be such a fool? You wanted me to break up with you so you would be able to chalk the relationship up to ‘she broke up with me’. I can just see it now…people ask why we’re not together and that’s all you’ll say. But oh how I wish you would be honest with them and tell them the whole story.
You aren’t choosing to be the man you started out to be…and I can see you right now saying, ‘well, this is how I am’…and that’s such BS because you are better than this. You are better than how you treated me. You are better than how you treat yourself or your family. You are smarter than you’ll ever admit. The legacy you’re writing, the way you live your life, the choices you make, how you treat yourself and others is not how your parents taught you to live. You are better and you know it. It’s just way easier to pretend you’re not so you can go on living in such a way where not even flies land on you.
What makes me feel crazy is that I know you’re better than this, you know you’re better than this and yet you refuse to show even the slightest decency to me, the smallest regard by acknowledging your complicity. It’s maddening to know that you’re incredible and that you’re refusing to be incredible. It’s as stupid to me as someone who knows how to swim and yet chooses not to, so they drown.
I think part of loving someone is giving them what they ask for and you kept asking me to leave, so I finally did. You had me believe that you were trying to work it out when you simply weren’t. I gave you chance after chance and even when you refused to show me the slightest bit of grace I still let things slide. If I treated you the way you treated me, you would have walked out a long time ago. You requested I give you more time and then you just walked out on me and don’t even care that you hurt me. You said you cared for me. You told me to dream. You invited me on an adventure and then you walked out.
I loved you the best I knew how. I pulled strength and dignity from reserves I didn’t even know existed so I could stand under the burdens you placed on me. I was willing to hold on because I knew that inside of you is a champion. I wanted honesty and to be loved and I was patient. I was there for you, mostly at the expense of myself...like when you would yell at me for my past relationships and judge me and make me feel like I’m second rate for things I did before I even knew you. I would sit there and take it because I thought you would work it out, I thought you needed time to deal. Or when you’d get drunk, call me names and say stupid shit but then try to laugh it off as if you didn’t mean it- I gave you the benefit of the doubt and let it go. The conversations we’d have when you painted me into your future, creating a future with us and our kids and the house...the whole nine yards. I wanted to have your babies and grow old with you. I would rather fight with you than not talk to you. I didn’t make fun of you and was extremely careful to protect you. And even in my hurt and pain, I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to be a burden or cause you pain. And sometimes it seemed like you wanted to injure me just for sport, just to ‘spice things up’ or incite me to a point where I’d fight with you and prove that I was like all the others before me.
So, if someone asks why it is that we ended, tell them it ended because you wanted it to and you took every chance you could to break me down, hurt me, use me, lie to me and break me. You took every cheap shot and low blow repeatedly to wear me down and that finally you reached success. You finally found the button to make me walk away, even though you could never find the button to make me fight with you. You finally poured enough salt in the wound that is currently my heart. You finally caused enough pain in my life where staying where I was would mean death to all things good and priceless in me. You finally made me question my worth and beauty enough to make me cry because you refused to answer questions. I’m not perfect and don’t pretend to be, but I tried my hardest and was honest. I was warm when you were cold. I believed you when you asked me to, I tried to not ask questions when you asked me not to, I supported you when you needed it, I helped you when you needed it and I offered help even if you didn’t need it, just because I wanted you to know that you weren’t alone. Despite my efforts to make you happy, to make you feel loved, to make you feel honored, special and on top of the world, you refused to accept them and instead pissed all over them. And so, until you choose to change, until you choose to be healthy and until you choose to pull your head out of your own ass, you will continue to poison yourself, hurt everyone in your life and continue to dwell in places of pain and injury. That is, until YOU choose to change, you will only perpetuate the pain you’re choosing to hold onto.

I am unlike any other woman you’ll ever know. Don’t even try to compare me to your past. And someday when you are in my recently held position, wanting so much for the other person to hold onto you the way you’re holding on to them, my prayer is that they will treat you with infinitely more grace, love and deference than you have ever shown me.
I can’t believe I spent all that energy and time trying to convince you of your worth when you spent just as much time and considerably more effort trying to show me how much I wasn’t worth. I deserve better and now I know better. I deserve a guy that tries to make it work and wants to make it work with me. I deserve that guy that thought I was his dream girl and was captivated by me and breathless when he would look at me and talk to me. I am that girl, I am phenomenal and worth the risk. I am so much more than what you tried to reduce me to.
I’m done pretending. And I’m most certainly done waiting for that awesome person to come back. I’m tired of waiting for you to decide what you want. But mostly, I’m just done with it all and I've left the confusion behind.

happy old year

2008-12-23T21:10:00.006-09:00

Despite the fact that I'm merely 340 days behind my running daily New Years resolution from 07 for 08, I think I've figured out why the end of the year remains such a satisfying and anticipatory time for me...I get such a sense of accomplishment in surviving another year and living as best as I knew and learning so so much...another year is done...time never stops...

I never knew this to be more true than one day at work, I had just finished my shift and one of my residents passed. It was a complete shock...from left field entirely. I was heartbroken for her because we were finally making progress...and when I went into her room to say goodbye, I fought the tears back and avoided eye contact with my co-workers that were gathering to pay their respects...and as I stood at the foot of her bed, completely dumbfounded, I saw the secondhand keep trudging along in its well worn path around the face of her wristwatch. And in that split second, I was shocked and devastated. Somewhere in me there was a cry begging for time to stand still and I felt there was a crude injustice being done by the ticking of the secondhand; as if time should pause, even just for a second to pay respect to this woman, or at the very least, her own watch should know to stop when she was gone.
I'm sure you've heard the quote..."everyone dies, but not everyone truly lives"...and I can tell you, I walked out of her room that day and everyday since when one of my residents passes, appreciative of life, thankful for time and with this sense of responsibility to myself, my future and my legacy to live. To live life and take notice of the seconds. To pay attention to the pain that is created and washed away, the lives that are lost and the people that leave.

So as another year closes and another greets us with shining hope and unforeseen troubles, I am thankful for my life, for every second that has gotten me here and for every second that I will get to live in this next one...

lesson learned in 08

2008-12-17T23:32:00.001-09:00

I realized recently that “roots” for me doesn’t necessarily mean a place anymore. It’s having a history and being able to live life with someone- these are my roots and the home for my dreams. I feel like I’m turning into a banyan tree instead of an oak…my roots grow horizontally; connecting me to the life around me, keeping me attached to the life I helped shape. And even though my roots don’t run quite as deep as others, they’re just as strong and just as beautiful.
Knowing this frees me to pursue living, buying a house, settling down…whatever the case, I’m able to do it because I know the attachment isn’t to a city or a house or stuff, it’s to the person with whom I share life.

I’m learning a lot lately.
And I like it.

judge or not to judge

2008-12-15T18:46:00.003-09:00

when i reflect on my life and different situations, often i find that i'm waiting to be judged.
judged on what, you may ask?

judged for my heart, ideas, body shape, weight, IQ, past, future, choices, taste, dreams...who knows. but i find that i am waiting for judgment from people and what's more is that sometimes i actually care. sometimes i want to know what people think of me and why.
and i don't think it's searching for an injury, despite the inevitable bracing that occurs and the gnawing pit of anxiety that my stomach turns into...
maybe it's just part of being human. i think everyone, at some level, in spite of being confident and secure, everyone waits for that nod of acceptance from someone, the look of approval...something i guess that shows we're accepted, that we're there, that someone somehow has reached through their own pain and touched us...it's validating to be seen, to be accepted, included...
so despite knowing my worth in God's eyes and that i do have significance...there still arises the occasion where i want to know just on a human level, what people think of me...is that so wrong?

argh

2008-12-14T17:59:00.000-09:00

i am a procrastinator. it's true. there is just no denying it.
i've always been good under pressure. it's how i operate, how i think best, how i negotiate best...is when i am up against the wall...time is running out...emotions have no place, it's just me and my wits outsmarting my opponent...

and yet, how smart can i really be when i continue to wait to the last minute to educate myself? if it was something that could be learned in an hour, i'm sure the class wouldn't be several months long, right?

lol

crappy mccrap crap

2008-12-07T21:09:00.004-09:00

sometimes i find that i consider what others think of me more than what i think of myself.
as if somehow their treatment of me becomes the lens through which i see myself accurately.
as though my worth can be affected by them.
how preposterous.

but still, it happens.
and still, i hate it.

departing...gate 3

2008-09-20T23:28:00.003-08:00

I’ve had quite a few departures as of late.
I’ve been rearranging priorities, turning opinions into beliefs and changing the way I see myself. I’m refusing to doubt my worth, focus on insignificant things, believe convenient lies and continue to conduct my life in a way where I make myself unhappy.
I’ve left people behind that I thought I would never be able to live without. I’ve come to terms with loneliness, walked through aloneness and recognized their distinct differences.
I’ve walked away from God and come back to find that He never let me go. I’ve wrestled with the hurt and pain caused by those who claim to love Him. I’ve watched ‘good’ people ruin each other’s lives through scandal and pride. I have looked at my own hypocrisy and marveled at my own darkness.
These are things I have known; that I have left behind. I have shaken the dust from my feet and I’m walking out of this place.

I think perhaps the significance of a departure is the impending arrival at a different place, perhaps even as a different person. There is no way to traverse this life without changing along the way; to leave one place is to arrive at another, even if the new place is just another path.

currently...

2008-08-21T19:31:00.002-08:00

...jesus is changing me...everyday...it may seem intangible most days...but He changes me...i'm nothing more (or less) than the woman who busted in on the dinner party, completely uninvited with my alabaster and cried on Jesus' feet with gratitude and sorrow...

she is me.

i am her.

he loves me.

and so any place i currently am at, i am grateful for simply because i know that i will never be there or that person again...every moment is something to experience, every encounter with Him is life changing.

it seems i don't get it right often, but my faith is in the Author...and it's through Him that perhaps someday i will...it's not a goal so much as a promise- from Him to me...this i know....

i wonder...

2008-08-03T23:36:00.002-08:00

have you ever seen the movie the truman show?

i feel like i’m jim carrey...living this seemingly perfect life that is just handed to him...

and then the light drops from the sky...and all of a sudden he's thrust on this quest full of rebellion, questions, self-discovery, blunders on display for the world to see and daily derision from himself and others...

and i find myself wondering...when exactly am i going to run into the sky?

and will it be the end of my story? or the beginning of the discovery of who i really am outside of this constructed reality?

i don't know...so for now, i'm staying off boats...

tragedy strikes

2008-07-28T15:56:00.004-08:00

my heart is so heavy right now.
i wish i could help ease the pain, but i have no words, no tears, no thing that can change anything at all. words are empty, breathing is painful, grief envelopes me like strange familiarity.
i'm helpless and fragile and unable to fix the brokenness.
all i can do is pray for those he left behind...it doesn't feel like nearly enough, but my hope and faith is steadfast in the One who took him home.
you are missed.

inventing laziness

2008-07-21T01:59:00.001-08:00

in our world where convenience is pursued at pretty much any cost, it seems like with all of our luxuries, we are only perpetuating laziness. a lot of what we used to have to fight for we're given or we've come to expect it to somehow fall into place. we've adopted the idea of 'destiny' and 'fate', almost to the point of allowing us to choose to do nothing under the idea that it will work out in the end. and i believe that it will, but it begs the question: what are we missing out on when we operate like this?
it seems like the integrity of our life experience is at stake when we plan it out and expect it to work according to our plan. we say things like, "right now just isn't a good time"...with the obvious assumption that somewhere down the road the option will be available again...but why aren't we going after experiences instead of waiting until the timing is right? life is full of unknowns. how is putting things on the 'back burner' anywhere close to carpe diem? we can't dictate the unknown and yet we continue to try.

and well, that's not for me.
i want the inconvenient, sacrificial, spontaneous, inspiring kind of life, love, legacy....

freak? definitely...

2008-07-17T01:15:00.005-08:00

i was watching criss angel mind freak...it was late, i couldn't sleep...
he pushed a tree over in some state somewhere...and all i could think was, 'wow, you totally just uprooted a beautiful and terribly expensive living being with no regard whatsoever for the soil or root structure that it has probably taken years to create. you probably just severely damaged the surrounding trees, not to mention killed the very palm tree you picked. awesome.'
all these women are fawning over him and are basically propositioning him and it made me laugh because all i could think was, 'he could be the worst lay ever but play a mind trick and make you think it was the most awesome ever. haha.' and i laughed.
he looks like a freak. why is it that all the people who can do magic are like all 'dark and death'? and what's with the hair and the guyliner....and a lisp? i mean, seriously? please, stop. it's comical. makes him look like the son of gene simmons. not something that's on my list of life goals. just sayin.
he actually said, 'no one can stop me from accomplishing what's in my head, i'm fully committed to what i want to do.' don't get me wrong, i admire the dedication. but seriously, he's a malignant narcissist.
sad.

this one's for you

2008-07-15T13:46:00.002-08:00

impossible

2008-07-08T01:22:00.003-08:00

i've never wanted so much and failed so greatly at being remembered. it's absurd. i mean, really.
what stinks the most is just when i think i've made a dent in your memory, that i've made a lasting impression, the truth is i haven't and it's then that i realize that there is no room for me in your heart, mind or life...
i used to think i was impossible to forget just extremely difficult to remember, but now i'm thinking the former is no longer true. you have opened my eyes to the new reality...i am just impossible to remember, an invisible memory, the dream you wish you could remember once you've opened your eyes, but alas, i vanish....

ponder this

2008-06-19T01:52:00.002-08:00

it seems pretty wide-spread and well-known that men want sex and women want relationships...so why are both sides continually surprised when these realities materialize?

...

2008-06-18T03:11:00.000-08:00

and it's weird, because even seven years later i have this desire, this borderline compulsion, to explain to the people i left what happened to me, as if somehow telling them now would redeem the aloneness that i felt so deeply...but at the same time i have this fear that if anyone from there catches wind of this, they wouldn't believe me....
i know it to be true. i lived it. i struggled to face each day. i gasped for hope. i survived.

my least favorite

2008-06-17T03:03:00.004-08:00

as a follow up to yesterday's post, i thought i'd go ahead and let yall in on my least favorite bad thing that has ever happened to me. please read with caution (and tenderness) though...
i am cautious to post this...it's not a widely-known part of my life, it's been protected for many years, for many reasons. i still haven't been able to tell my parents...don't know if ever i will...
it's one of those things that set off a course of events and undoubtedly, without it happening, i would most likely never have gone on the adventure that led me to alaska and honestly, the discovery of my heart and the true God. while these are marvelous things that i am forever grateful for discovering, it's still hard at times to look at the leaving of that place as a good thing. i'll explain...
the early parts of my life were spent growing up in georgia, we moved to florida and i remember feeling as though i didn't belong. i know most people have that period in their life where they just feel awkward and left out, overlooked, forgotten, forgettable...something, but whatever you may call it, alone is what it feels like. i left my home in florida for a school in the middle-of-nowhere, indiana and for the first time in my short life, i felt a commonality with the people i brushed my teeth next to in the morning and the people i'd stand in line with in the dining commons. there was a sense of community unlike anything i had known before. it was beautiful. i was so encouraged by the realness of those i lived with and my curiosity was piqued to push myself to become who God created me to be. i was incredibly blessed to find one of my soul mates there...he and i were two hands of a prayer, he was my best friend. we learned from each other, we learned together. we challenged each other.
i met this other guy there. well, actually i had met him a number of years prior when i went for a visit...but he was back at the school to finish his degree and we became fast friends. we hung out, went to eat, skipped class, went for walks, watched movies, went to sporting events...it was a typical kick-ass friendship that i loved. people would always comment on our visible chemistry and ask us both why we weren't together...one night after a long day of being ill, i went to his room to watch another movie and the unthinkable happened. i was at a loss.
you see, i had grown up so naive, that i assumed it was a natural part of adult relationships and although i said no, i blamed myself. i felt guilty. after he stopped coming to class, stopped coming to chapel and turned and walked the other way when he saw me on campus, i figured something was wrong. i had never seen him act weird. i found out a few short days later that he started dating a different girl. i was crushed. the one time i did have a chance to ask what had happened, he blamed me and just walked away. i was devastated. the end of the year came and i moved to colorado for the summer. i was alone, so very alone and without the ability to make it all stop hurting or at the very least, make it make sense. the fall semester started and i was determined to have fun during the year, grow, make friends, and hopefully finally move past the heartbreak of the last year.
i soon found out that something had been broken inside me and while all i was doing was ignoring it, the brokenness kept growing underneath my facade and was quickly consuming me. i didn't have the words, didn't even know that it was considered assault, to process what had happened, so i feebly went about life. i was a mess to say the least. there were many dark days and even more darker nights. i was in counseling, but couldn't tell my counselor about the event. my best friend, the guy that could breach any boundary, his touch and presence made me nauseous and i didn't know why. nothing made sense. my life, the life that i had felt so incredibly blessed to live the past year had become a living nightmare, my only recess was restless sleep and one unlikely girl friend, whom to this day, i believe God sent her specifically to me for that semester...if for nothing more than to fight the pain with laughter...
there are many things i don't remember about that last semester but these i do: i failed classes, i dyed my hair, i wore dark dark eyeliner, i stopped talking to people, i stopped trusting people, i cut myself, i dreamed of death. i remember at one really low point, there was a suicide on campus and her picture graced the cover of our newspaper. i distinctly remember looking at her picture and the hollowness in her eyes scared me. it felt like i was looking into the abyss that my life was quickly becoming and it frightened me. my dreams flittered through my mind, my hope, my once held dearly passions...and then jealousy surfaced; she had found her way out of the pain. it wasn't until a dear friend walked in on me cutting that i realized all my attempts to assuage my pain on my own were actually hurting other people; i had failed, yet again. i remember a prayer meeting that was held in our building and all i remember is standing there trying to reach out for help, crying, asking for forgiveness for being angry at the other female and literally making a fool of myself. i remember going home for christmas vacation and it was the first time i had seen my father cry for me. he asked me to come home now because if i didn't, the next time would be for my burial. i knew then my only choice was to leave the place.
i know my pain was public, but i don't think anyone cared. i mean, these people didn't know the depths of pain or darkness i had traversed. they didn't know what happened. they just saw it as a relationship that ended. no one knew. i was alone once again.
it's been seven years now since the event...and it's still difficult when all is considered- the friendships that were lost, the people that i don't talk to, my exit from that place as the 'crazy person', the humiliation and shame i went through...it's still difficult at times to see the good. and i don't know if i'll ever be able to see it entirely on this side of eternity...but i am who i am partly because of it. i am strong. i was broken. i was robbed of my innocence. i know the inside of that trench and my story has helped others around me. i am sensitive. i am empathetic. i am courageous. i was wounded, not only by him, but by the disappearance of those whom i loved. i was wounded, but Time has healed me and soon, maybe it will look like the rest of my scars...

my most favorite

2008-06-16T12:19:00.004-08:00

i know bad things happen to everyone and it seems like a good portion of the time, the bad things have these really valuable lessons intrinsically woven in them...for me, i've been able to pinpoint my most favorite bad thing and my least favorite bad thing that have happened to me over the years.
this one is by far, my most favorite. which is good, because it contains my most favorite quote as well...
it has to do with a guy...we had been friends, i wanted more, he didn't, we existed. we were close. really close. and then he changed his mind and wanted more. i was floored. it was everything and more than i could have wanted. i had no idea he had felt like this for so long. i felt like life was finally falling into place. love was most definitely in the air. i was no longer holding out hope, i was living its reality! and then he changed his mind again but this time, it was not so good. he wanted out. he got scared. he didn't know why he said all those things. i felt trapped. i couldn't breathe. here was this guy that i have loved. we have been through real life together, i mean hard things and beautiful things. he was my best friend. and here he was breaking my heart in front of me, tearing it to shreds with his words and yet, as if to try and put salve on an open wound, was asking me to remain his friend because he values me so much and can't imagine life without me. the salve may as well have been salt. i said to him my favorite quote, "i can't put my heart back in a box that was too small for it to begin with." and with that, i severed all ties. i lost my best friend, my (what i thought at the time) chance at love, my social circle, my idealism...but it was after having my insides ripped out and everything i held onto for life die off that i was forced to realize another way to live. i had to recreate myself and am now reaping the benefits of that reconstruction. never would i wish the pain i had felt on anyone, but for me, it was a new beginning...and i'm actually grateful, because i know now what i don't want and sometimes that's half the battle...

answers

2008-06-12T13:10:00.003-08:00

why are they so important on a day-to-day basis? and why does it seem so hard for some people to give them?
i learned many moons ago that i'm not always going to get what i want or what i ask for, but i've also learned that many times, all i'm asking for is just an answer. it doesn't have to be good or bad or in between...just stand up and answer the question asked.
i'm really okay either way the chips may fall, but your silence is deafening...

the letter unsent

2008-06-06T10:20:00.003-08:00

so you say you want to live life running through the crashing waves, absorbing and experiencing all that life has to offer...why are you standing on the shore trying to dictate which wave should come first? i think that's part of the beauty in life...to be able to take each wave as it comes, whenever it does (which is most likely out of our preferred order) and experience it, revel in it, live it...
i'm not trying to make it sound like you're not living life...you just have this thing about trying to control the order of your life, and i hear such frustration in your voice when it doesn't happen the way or as soon as you want it, and it seems like you take these drastic measures in order to reconfigure because you think that somehow reorganizing your life will make it happen in your own time. and it seems like you take it as failure when it doesn't come about.
what if what you want right now isn't supposed to happen til you've walked through another door? and what if you're waiting to walking through that door til the first thing happens? you'll never get there if you don't start taking a few steps with what you already know...

Life

2008-05-23T01:42:00.003-08:00

Love has taught me to
Hope but not believe
Give and not receive.
Try but always fail
Treasure and never bail
On those brought into my life.
I don't understand,
Stopped trying to explain.
Wondering if you're real.
I see you in action;
From my heart to others.

I wonder if it's possible to love
Yet never be loved in return?

the truth

2008-05-08T12:27:00.003-08:00

So as an adult female, finding out that not all firemen are blazing hot is reminiscent of when I was a wee child and I found out there really wasn't a Santa Claus. Terrible disappointment, deep in my soul.
And for you men, when women have sleep overs, it's not all pillow fights in our undies.

Just so we're all on the same playing field of disillusionment...you're welcome for the blowing the lid off that...

:]

Meet & Greet = Crash & Burn

2008-05-07T12:44:00.008-08:00

I think the two have never been more closely related than when you're single. Why is it that 'singleness' is looked at as a bad thing? Why am I looked down on by others when they find out I'm single? I think it's interesting to note since I have yet to find an answer.
When I meet that person, I have a feeling, a very strong feeling, that it will be more organic than a fix-up. It has to be, right? Or is that just the romantic in me? I don't know. I need to have something more in common with them than the fact that we are both single and we both know this one person who thinks we'd be perfect together. I have this idea that fate plays a role in who I end up with. And I'd like to think that 'fate' isn't a person. I'd like to think that at the right time, with the right person, when I am who I am supposed to be, it will happen and I tend to shy away from the idea that it can be orchestrated by humans with their stupid agendas. Besides the fact that I'm horrible on blind dates and can't stand the social pressure associated with dating, I generally despise being set up with someone- romantically or otherwise.
Since love is too much, too divine to be designed by humans, I refuse to believe that it can be set up, even by the most well-meaning person on earth. Plus, the most beautiful things in me and about me are the very things that are inherent to whom I was created to be, they are my essence and simply cannot be contrived. So how could love be any different?

PFD

2008-04-28T13:25:00.003-08:00

My personal flotation device in this sea called life is summed up in one word: hope.
I hope against hope that things will turn out alright. I hope for the best but find myself often preparing for the worst. Is this how life is supposed to be- Staring at the silver lining but carrying an umbrella just in case it should rain?
I don't want any surprises to discourage my course or put out the desire in me to live. I don't want to be blindsided by misfortune. I want to feel prepared or at the very least, that I am capable of getting through whatever may come my way. But how are we supposed to roll with the punches when the punches knock the breath out of us?
How am I supposed to plan for a future with someone knowing they could wake up in 30 years, hate me and want out? How are we supposed to live in freedom when there is so much to be afraid of? Do we just go blindly through life, falling in whatever potholes happen to be in my path, losing whatever falls off or goes away?
I guess my question is: how are we to go through life, hoping for a good future, doing our best to get there with the realization that it could all be gone tomorrow?
Is hoping for the best really all that keeps us afloat when the storms come?

Proud & Alone

2008-04-13T22:51:00.005-08:00

When it comes to my situation, I have these two tendencies grating together and they happen to be grating on my last nerve.
One is the tendency to dream and hope for something, get an idea about what it should look like and become disillusioned when things inevitably go to pot. The other is simply to take things as they come- open hands, open heart.
And it's when these two collide that I find myself confused and a little bewildered. I feel like I have the right to expect and get more than what I'm getting, but then wonder why I can't just be content with the way things are.
So which is the right answer?
Oddly, I feel the same contradictory emotions either route I take- the first tendency, I feel proud because I stood up for myself and my needs but alone because no one rose to the occasion. And with the second, I feel proud because I just 'go with the flow' and alone because it doesn't even come close to what I've wanted for myself.
So, tell me, which do I do? And how can I be happy with my decision once it's made?

Well, I figured it out-
I'd rather stand up for myself and deal with being by myself than be with someone and be unfulfilled. That wasn't so hard after all! Ha! :]

LOL

2008-04-08T14:18:00.002-08:00

who can pass on a good laugh? it's like not cashing a check you have in your hand, when you're standing at bank...read this and you'll laugh...it's that good....

i'm still laughing.

still.

haunted

2008-03-24T01:03:00.000-08:00

i hate how the creative engine can so quickly turn into your worst enemy when things don't go as hoped for...
the thoughts haunt, plague and yes, even perpetuate the sheer terror of your worst nightmares when all it would take is a voice, one simple voice that would silence the taunting...
is that too hard to ask?

so wrong

2008-03-21T21:30:00.000-08:00

have you ever typed something and after it was finished, it just looked and sounded stupid, so you watch the blinking line travel to the left as you hold down the backspace button...wondering the whole time what went wrong because you swear it sounded so much better in your head...yeah, that's what happened here and this is all you get....

bah bah bah

2008-03-18T22:46:00.007-08:00

I normally kid around with people and tell them that I'm the 'black sheep' of the family. I'm the one who rebels in thought, behavior, personality, language, tastes, and what I consider socially acceptable and beautiful. I push the limits, what can I say? While these things remain to be true, which I tend to attribute to my bohemian outlook on life, I've come to the conclusion that we are all 'black sheep' in life.
I'll say it again: we are all black sheep. Wanting so much to be without blemishes and all too often over-looking our blemishes, discounting them, and hiding them, we pretend to be something we aren't all in hopes of pleasing others, so we seem 'normal' and unstained. It's horribly ironic- each one of us is blemished and everyone knows what it's like to pretend we aren't blemished. Each one of us can remember a time when we felt like all we were doing was hiding who we were from those around us. What a fearful way to live, always suspicious and wondering if today was the day that the others will find out how truly different I am and how horrible those differences are.
So I find comfort now, knowing that even as I (albeit rarely) find myself trying to blend in and fly below the radar, that we as humans are nothing more and nothing less than the proverbial black sheep, the odd ones out.

We are all blemished, we are all trying to blend in, we are all standing out, on our own, hoping that someone will appreciate us for our blackness, our differences, if for nothing more. This hulking monstrosity of a burden is suddenly lightened by the realization that I'm not alone and in life we are all blemished and bleating, praying we don't stand out.

intrigue, maybe

2008-03-17T22:51:00.001-08:00

5 things about me I want you to know:

If I’m up at 330am, I love watching reruns of ‘Mad About You’. They make me want to marry my best friend even more than I already want to.
I can handle, and in fact love watching surgeries and births, but touching raw meat makes me want to vomit.
Completing the Ironman is one of my life goals.
I want to build my own house.
I’m writing a book.

This list was originally 10 things long, but I wanted to keep an air of mystery about myself, so I cut it down to 5…yeah, that’s right. That just happened.

LOL

2008-03-15T18:05:00.004-08:00

Humor is one of those awesome things that I'm convinced people need more of in their life. Without humor, life is rendered useless. I'm blessed to have many people in my life who make me laugh, truly laugh...you know, make your face hurt from smiling so much, sides ache, gasping for breath kind of laughter.
The funny thing is, especially for someone such as myself who thoroughly enjoys being understood, if you explain a joke it's ruined. I think it's the best way to be unfunny...just break it down for your audience and all of a sudden, it's no longer funny. I mean it may be ironic, but no longer LOL funny. Love it.
Moral is: laugh. Just laugh. You'll feel better, your friend who told the story/joke will feel fulfilled and your overall health will improve the more often you laugh. Plus, much like learning a language, your aptitude for understanding jokes and the humor in life will increase the more you practice laughing.
So start today and by the end of the week, you'll be laughing your ass off.

My Beauty is...Me

2008-03-11T23:30:00.013-08:00

It's the tears in my eyes
With a smile on my lips,
The sound of my voice
The feel of my kiss.

It's the curl of my hair
The fire in my eyes
The laugh in my voice
The want to be wise.

It's the grace in my hands
The drive in my step
The touch of my skin
The lack of regret.

It's the strength of my will
The words on my lips
The joy in my smile
The sway in my hips.

It's in my scars,
Is seen through my tears
It's in my successes
And even my fears.

It's the beat of my heart
The strength of my back
The shape of my chest
And all that I lack.

It's the peace in my soul
The power of conviction
My hope and my dreams
My love is in action.

My beauty is hidden in plain sight for all to see. If for nothing more than my ability to appreciate beauty that is found in the day-to-day things...the shape of a bowl, the shadow through a window, a child laughing, a couple embracing, the joy of friends, the heartache of loss, the shape of a tree, the power in the wind...it is in me and in these things that beauty is common but uncommonly recognized.
My beauty has always been more hidden than I would ever have wanted. It takes a trained eye and patience to find...but it takes the diligence of a good heart to hold onto it when it's found. It's fleeting and shy, unknown and hidden in the common.
I am a daisy in the field of wildflowers, beautiful for its simplicity and rawness...
content to just be.

meaning...?

2008-03-09T21:00:00.000-08:00

Ever say a word so many times it doesn't even sound like the word you meant to say? It just turns to mush in your mouth and although you know you mean to say it, you begin to doubt even yourself. Well, anyhow, I was having a conversation the other night over coffee with this guy, we'll call him the singing plantain...about meaning and he believes that life experiences only have meaning if we give it meaning. I begged to differ and the conversation that ensued after finding out we disagreed involved the over-use of the word 'meaning'...and well, it was pretty soon that the word lost it's meaning and didn't even sound real anymore.
I guess it was a new twist on the old adage- "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make any noise?" We both agreed that yes, it would. He then pointed out that it would mean different things to different people- the capitalist would see it as a gain, the environmentalist would grieve it, the naturalist would see it as a natural occurrence and on and on...my question is then, does it matter? The fact that an event happens should show that it's significant, right?
My personal opinion is that meaning isn't measured by the reaction or emotion it evokes from us, I think the meaning can be seen simply because we acknowledge the event. The recognition of something already bestows significance; the emotion it evokes, if any, is the icing.

blitz!

2008-03-07T01:19:00.003-09:00

Sorry for the blog blitz...these thoughts have been in my head for too long already and I just knew that if I didn't get them out and down on the keys, I'd get backed up again...I hate that mentally constipated feeling that comes when you don't empty the thoughts that run loops in your brain...trivial or monumental- it's just the same.
It's clearing my brain, getting rid of the endless and at times compulsive thoughts and questions that bounce around in my head...I'm looking forward to the day when my brain is completely empty. :]

about me...

2008-03-07T00:54:00.001-09:00

I've decided to test my emotional intelligence...trying to figure out what it is that people see me as...this is what I've come up with so far...
I am: stubbornly yielding, emotionally even-keeled and passionate, generous to a fault, a false extrovert, a grammarian, confidently insecure, courageous, adventurous, a risk-taker, witty but often the only one laughing, selfish but empathetic and compassionate, a wide-awake dreamer, an old soul with a youthful heart, a hopeful romantic tinged with cynicism, misunderstood, easily overlooked and hard to remember but unforgettable, spontaneous but also a planner, a lyricist who doesn't know what to say, far above rubies (sorry if your name is Ruby, not talking about you), inviting, creative, ADD plagued with CFS, kindhearted, lovely, fabulous, real and unknown.

Basically, I'm a living contradiction...does everyone have these two opposing sides to them?

admission

2008-03-07T00:35:00.004-09:00

I'm a list maker. I love lists. Even if I don't accomplish everything on them, for some unknown reason, I love to make lists. I make lists about making lists. I rewrite lists, organize them, put them in the sequence of which they should be completed and carry them around. I have security with my lists. It's like "the list" has this power of making things happen...I mean, if it's not on the list, it won't happen! (well, in my case even if it does make the list, there is a high chance it might get transferred to another list because it didn't get accomplished...)

50 cent

2008-03-07T00:30:00.001-09:00

it's a metaphor for change.
I think that is indisputably my favorite line from the artist known as 50 cent. Brilliant man, he is.
Anyhow...
Change.
Most days I love it. In fact, I think I actually crave it. Or maybe it's just the idea of it I crave. I never really can form a firm opinion on this matter. But no matter my opinion, it happens. Sometimes it feels drastic and overnight, other times it is so gradual that I can't even see a difference a month down the road.
I look around me, at others' that are changing, I can see it in them, but hardly notice it in me. I ask the same questions, want the same things and am still looking for the same answers as I was years ago. That being said, however, I can decidedly say that I'm not the same person I was back then.
Sometimes I feel like the earth, struggling to change, freezing overnight, melting during the day, just wanting the 'transition' period to be finished and finally thrust into the new place, the new season, the next step, tomorrow.
Basically, where I am is wanting a new set of problems...ones that even if they're the same maybe just look different...I don't know...maybe I'll just squint my eyes for now...

blinded...

2008-02-29T00:22:00.000-09:00

Why does it take someone leaving for us to realize they're what we want? Why can't we see it when it's right in front of us, plain as day and take it then? Why do we wait til someone's funeral to celebrate them publicly and recount the memories? Why is it that once someone is gone, we can only remember the good times- and even the bad times are seen as positives?
Is it a case of we don't know what we want? The grass is always greener? Are we just unaware of those around us?

What is it in us that creates this blindspot to the beauty and love that is around us? Why do we take it for granted, only to realize once it's gone, how good it actually was? Is it just easier to get stuck on the impossibilities that so often cloud our vision, that they ultimately block out the infinite possibilities that each situation creates?

Where is your blindspot? And what is keeping you from seeing past it?

forgetfulness

2008-02-09T01:55:00.000-09:00

Why is it so easy to overlook the fact that we are so dearly loved by the God of the universe, the Champion of our hearts, the Creator Himself has taken a personal interest in our lives, in my heart, in my dreams...so why is it so stinking easy to forget that and live my life in such a way that questions His devotion?
Why is my stubbornness so stubborn? Why is my heart so heavy? What am I doing in my life?

Is it fear? Lack of faith? Mistrust? Hurt?

Why do I live my life like I’m continuously questioning HIS devotion to me? HE is the jilted lover. HE is the One I’ve repeatedly cheated on. HE is the One that comes after me.

Why can’t I just accept that? I’m thrilled at the thought of it, but when reality sets in, I just forget.

I don’t want to forget.

argghhhh...and not in the piraty sense

2008-02-08T23:21:00.000-09:00

I throw pottery.
I mean, I make it on a wheel...the process, it's called 'throwing'...just in case you started wondering if all of a sudden I became a weirdo and just threw clay objects to make them break...
I grew up cooking and baking with my mom, mum, aunts....my sister and I would mix water, flour and sugar and then put food coloring in it, just to be cool, and my mom (bless her soul) would let us do this day in and day out, ultimately leading to the complete and utter demise of her entire tupperware collection- who knew you had to clean it out before it hardened?!
I tell that lovely anecdote to correlate my pottery to baking and eventually to my life- stick with me!...when I first started out with clay, I treated it a lot like baking- except it was in two steps and way hotter than our oven at home could ever get. You make the piece you want, you put it in the kiln, take it out, let it cool and then you glaze it.
First, I never really could grasp the reality of the piece shrinking the first time in the kiln- I either made the pieces extremely large and they didn't shrink to the size I wanted- like my mom's 'cereal bowl' she uses to serve salad...for 20...or I made it the size I wanted and it would turn out to be perfect for a doll house- I just never could understand it. Second, when it comes to glazing...I thought if I left enough room at the bottom, the heat would 'melt' the glaze and it would run down to cover up the thumb prints or other smudges, but no, to my disappointment, it didn't run together, in fact it didn't even move. Pity.
I pictured my pieces to turn out so much more beautiful than what they ended up looking like. And it wasn't the kiln's fault or even the glaze or the clay...nope, the responsibility of the multiple travesties I produced rested squarely on my hands, as it were. Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely inept when it comes to clay and a wheel and glaze, but I had my fair share of pieces I hid so the rest of the class didn't laugh at me.
And that is like my life. Nice segue, eh? :]
It's like my life because when I look at it, I picture all these fabulous things: long life, gray hair and lots of wrinkles, true love, a whole load of kids, a strong and kickin marriage, a sex life- a good sex life, a house with a porch and animals, lots of noise, exhaustion at the end of a day, endless frustrations and debt. And I want it. I want it all- the bad, the good, the ugly, the pretty, the not-so-pretty, the painful and the painless...I want all that life has to hold. But then when I take an honest look at the current choices I make and how I conduct myself- the end result really isn't what I picture. It's like how I used to treat those early pieces- putting them in the kiln despite the marring, hoping that somehow the heat would work its magic, much like the oven does with chocolate chips in cookies- and the end product would be this beautiful, marketable and highly enviable piece that I created.
My current choices don't reflect the end result I want...I don't know why I continue to exist in this place of dreaming about the future but somehow refusing to take the steps to get there.
Eventually, I didn't get it perfect, but I got a lot better at determining the end size, shape, color and overall presence of the piece. And to be quite honest, I love some of my pottery- it's a life-size example of how God sees me. I know the sweat, tears and dreams I put into the pieces- they didn't just happen on accident, I actually worked to get them to look like that- and that realization makes me feel loved by Him.
I still have to wonder though- will I get it right? Not perfect...but will I get it right, where I start heading toward what I dream about? Will I ever take the steps? Or is it just about where I'm headed and not really so much where I am right now? Is today the day I wake up and decide only good things? Argh, the questions- they're endless....
Oh, and the baking...it got much better...I figured out using more than flour, water and sugar makes things A LOT tastier...just in case you were wondering. :]

perfection

2008-01-17T01:58:00.002-09:00

I don’t believe in perfection…even the smooth stone at the end of the river, the one that is perfect, shiny and makes all the other stones jealous was only smoothed because the rushing water pushed it down the river, both forcing it into and dislodging it from crevices and dragged it along the bottom. It’s smoothness is not because it was perfect at the beginning, the middle or even close to the end…it’s smooth because it was beat up along the way…and it’s smoothness at the end is its perfection completed. I have a feeling my life can be characterized like that. Not always in step with standards, sinful, full of grace, off-beat, love struck, stuck in ruts, forced out of my comfort zone…I can only hope that my God, the One Who created the river and the rock will smooth me to perfection. And I love that though the river and the path of the rock seem random at best, I know in my core, that my God is intentional. And even though I strike out on my own, I know that He has me. He loves me.

the line

2008-01-09T01:59:00.001-09:00

Where do we draw it? How are we defined by it? How do we deal with it? How do we not judge people determined by which side of the line they are currently on? And finally, how long do they have to be on this side of the line before we stop judging them for previous behaviors that occurred on that side of the line?

God says that His mercies are new each day. That His grace and love are infinitely more than we can ask, know or even comprehend.

So is it possible to make a judgment about someone? Is it fair?

I know I can judge if someone is safe for me in different capacities and I feel responsible so as to not give myself away to people that aren’t worth it. But even saying that, I feel like I’m making a judgment that although has been made against me, I shouldn’t be making since I don’t know them and don’t know what God is doing in them. I can understand character problems creating issues, and I can understand seeing a pattern in someone that is destructive.

But in the end, does it really even matter? We are all fallen, so shouldn't we all be untrustworthy? Are any of us worth investing in (by human standards)? So do we write off everyone and hide in our little life or do we accept everyone- dangerous or docile- and just live the way we know how?

I mean honestly, what can man do to me...?

M.A.S.H.

2007-12-21T16:18:00.001-09:00

It seems like life was so much easier when we were little. We never or at least very rarely had to question our choices and the subsequent consequences we had to deal with were minimal at best. Nowadays, it seems like I second-guess everything. Did I wear the right shirt? Is it too tight? Not tight enough? Should I wear short pants? Makeup? What about my hair? Should I dye it? Shave it? Straighten it? Grow it? While all of these questions may not relate to you, for me, trying to navigate the land of constant decision-making makes for a rough day. Should I call? Should I apply for this job? Is this love? Ah, and that’s when it hits me.

You see, when I was little, ‘love’ or what I thought I knew about it was simple enough to figure out in a little game called MASH.

*embarrassing confession*

My friend and I were playing it the other day and I smiled at how arbitrary and final those little hash marks seemed at the end of the game. Who needs a five-year plan when all you need is notebook paper, your top three choices for each category and hash marks? It’s like I could see my life plan unfolding and there was a happy little way to get somewhere splayed out in front of me; complete with the winners circled and the losers inevitably scratched out, so as not to make a mistake when counting. Now granted, it wasn’t my dream…to live in a shack with four great danes and a butler, but it’s what the hash marks predicted. And somehow in that instant, oddly enough, it was a great relief to finally feel like my life was headed some place and that in the end, that final destination was actually somewhere and it was somehow related to the choices I’ve made along the way. It was comforting to see that even though the dream wasn’t necessarily attained, that there was some kind of finality to it. It was comforting, even just for the second I let myself get caught up with the game, to know that where I'd end up wouldn't be where I currently am. Odd, I know.

I guess I just didn’t take the time to realize that life had become complicated, that people play for keeps- whether it’s another’s heart or simply their own, and the choices I make today may not have an affect on tomorrow. But they could quite possibly have an affect on next week. Or someone else's day, week, life. It's no longer a world of make believe. And I don't exist in a vacuum.

I don’t mean to say that I wish I could just live a life that is dictated- I certainly enjoy my freedom- but it just seems that a little direction, a little guidance towards the right way would really silence my questions. Or at least part of them. But then again, maybe it’s a faith exercise. You see? It's this constant barrage of options, questions and thoughts that exist within my skull and chest. They war each other daily and it's tiring.

Does it ever get easier? Do we ever reach a point where we just know that where we’re headed is the right place? Or is it my faith in God that the place I’ll end up is the right place and the path along the way is really a matter of faith, finding Him and Him showing me who I am along the way?

Is God a God of the end justifies the means?

freedom

2007-12-03T15:32:00.003-09:00

Today is difficult for our generation…we are told we can be anything, do anything, go anywhere, outlive our parents, be different from everyone because we are unique; and it’s sad because most people will do all of those things. It seems like the one thing we aren’t encouraged to be is ourselves. It’s like we live in this schizophrenic/ADD world that has no clue where we are going because we are so caught up in becoming something that stands out. And oddly, what that ends up looking like ultimately is a society that looks alike, talks alike and yes, even dates and marries the same people. It’s sad.

In our endless search for what we think we want to be, we have lost sight of who we were created to be and Who we were created by and for. We are inundated with the message that we must be different, look different and act different…and well, we’ve missed that. We shop at the same stores- all looking for that original style…and most people will just leave their own self at home, because somehow we’ve learned that it isn’t good enough. So in order to measure up to arbitrary and asinine standards, that truly contradict themselves, we abandon the only Person who can even begin to tell us exactly who we are and we look to others who are just as flawed (and in competition with us) to shed some light on our worth. So we fight to become our own, we have labels, we are labeled…and comparing the two categories of labels ours and His…it’s astounding to see the difference.

Slut, happy, bitchy, immature, old, cranky, funny, boring, witty, pretty, ugly, stupid, dumb, ridiculous, insane, fat, skinny, anorexic, successful, failure, liar, goody-two-shoes, rebel, hellion, brown nose, suck up, sarcastic, mean, rude, unkind…we use these labels and more to try and sum up who we are, who we think others are, and what we think about our interactions with them. And truth be told, they change sometimes minute by minute. Some days we like each other and others, and in the next minute we could be at each other’s throats. So much judging goes on day to day. We judge so we don’t get judged. We judge harshly in order to keep the ones we perceive as a threat to stay away. We judge ourselves so when another judges us, there's no surprise.

But there is an alternative…here’s another list that I have come to cherish:

I am loved first, far above rubies, more than a conqueror, set apart, His, sought after, in His righteousness, rejoiced over with singing…

It goes on and on…these are just some of my favorites. And once I remember to bathe in the Truth, to remember Whose I am, the striving ceases. There is no competition, no fear of losing my status with Him, no wondering what He says about me when I walk out of the room or have a bad day, no fear of what may befall me because quite frankly, I am summed up by Him. He knows me. He says what I am. He has the right to condemn me, to throw stones, to hate me, to ignore me, to chastise me, to make fun of my imperfections, to leave me hanging, to make me feel inadequate…but He doesn’t. He loves me. It’s incredible, really. But He does. And it’s the safest I’ve ever been.

And so when I’m running around this world, trying to be different, but trying to be normal and I feel crazy, I try to remember that He is my audience. That other people’s opinions only matter if I put stock in them and that it is exhausting and ridiculous to continue to try and do things to please the people I really have no interest in, outside of gaining their approval!

for you, for me...for us all

2007-11-12T00:30:00.000-09:00

In the land of familiar, there is only repetitive defeat; it’s the same lines, the same reality, leading to the same results every time. It’s not until we actually leave the familiar, the very things we thought made us who we are, that we find who we can become. It takes courage to leave what we know, to face what we think (and usually are convinced that) we are unable to conquer. But if we remain in what we know, for fear of failing at something we aren’t yet aware of, we willingly die a slow and painful death. We give up our dreams because who bothers to dream of things already known; we give up our hope for a life that is different than what we currently have. And once we lose our dreams and our hope, our heart is quickly and forever lost in the tears that blur our sight each day we spend looking out the window to the horizon, wondering what might have been had we only left what we knew.

Take courage. Leave the familiar. Adventure into the unknown.

It's worth it.

heaven

2007-11-06T16:51:00.001-09:00

i love watching the gaither homecomings on tv. i picture heaven much like these- except no one is in the audience- we're all on stage, gathered around a piano that maybe God Himself plays, all singing in amazing harmony, songs that just boil up from our souls that praise Him and glorify Him...i love that.
there is something about music...and it's not solely Christian music, but music in general, that makes my heart swell and causes it to be swept up into the reality that there is so much more to life. it's why i'm moved to tears sometimes, am speechless at others, and still at others, become fiercely aware of emotions and words.
it's only happened once or twice where i swear it feels like the barrier between heaven and earth was removed and the angels of heaven joined in the singing. the volume was massive, the heart and soul were affected...it was beautiful. and this, this is what i imagine heaven to be like. the constant realization and entrance into a chorus of praise and glory to God...

giosue

2007-10-12T18:29:00.000-08:00

it's not often that i sit and write about the people in my life- perhaps i should- i know i wrote about my cousin, but she is. . .well, she's one of those extravagantly real people that you can't help but wish you'd be able to accurately depict with such limiting words. i love her.
but this one, this post is about my brother. it was his birthday yesterday. and traditionally in our family, you get the most absurdly funny and borderline insulting birthday cards in order to elicit laughs when the cards are inevitably passed around the dinner table. but this year, i decided to get a nice card.
he and i are in a great place in our relationship. he got married in july and it was awesome. i was in the bridal party and it was so cool to see him promise his heart, love and life to his wife. beauty in action.
i mean, he's my big brother. i looked up to him when i was young, wanted to be his buddy, got in trouble with him. we had the best adventures together, built awesome forts together, watched movies, climbed trees, played football (i was joe montana and he was jerry rice- there was a rhyme), navigated the 'mississippi river', shot squirrels and other pesky animals. . .he was very much my hero, my 'north star', my plumb line for what and who i wanted to be.
it's fun to see him grow up and be comfortable in his manliness and do things with intention. it's very esteeming for me, as his baby sister, to see him make good choices, to see his strength, to see his gentleness and to see his courage.
and well, i didn't want to make a joke this year (for once). i wanted my words to matter. i chose them with the intention of encouraging him and letting him know that i'm glad he's my big brother. he's a man of few words, doesn't get caught up in emotion and for his 31st birthday, i wanted to bless him.
and despite the sacrifice of zero laughs (since he didn't pass it around the table), i'm glad i told him what i think of him. i meant those words and hopefully, he heard them.

<3

2007-10-04T23:20:00.001-08:00

"Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." -C.S. Lewis

Ah, the unloved life seems such a waste. I think I finally agree wholeheartedly- through trial, triumph, lessons, pain and joy- with the age-old adage, "It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all."
My heart is in everything I do and it is the lens through which I see everything. I don't know any other way to exist. And even if I could change it, I don't think I would. . .in spite of the tragedies that are bound to happen, the inevitable awkward situations and conversations, there is something so real, so beautiful, so alive and so pure about a heart that is open, vulnerable and honest.
God has given me my heart for a reason. . .and I know it's not meant for hiding. . .

The anticipation is palpable!

Idyllic?

2007-09-27T21:35:00.000-08:00

Maybe the big difference between our generation and those before us is that we've all reached the age where we have these ingrained ideals and standards of what we think our mate should look, act, be and sound like. Maybe the former generations married before the ideals consumed their reality.

We have ideals thrown at us- of what we should look like, of how we should feel about those around us, of what our significant other should look like. . .and on and on it goes. It seems like a never-ending death, really. I can no longer believe that standards- of the caliber that the other has to be this or that or all of the above (and I'm not talking core things)- are beneficial.

I've heard time and again from my guy friends how they wanted to explain to some girl they are interested in, just how much they've grown. Inevitably, they poke the girl in an often-sore spot and the conversation usually goes south. He ends up saying, "I used to have these standards and now they seem so meaningless. I used to think I wanted the girl that all my guy friends looked at, but not anymore. I used to want the trophy wife. . .You're no beauty queen and I'm no beauty king" or something along those lines. It's sad, really. He's doing nothing more than trying to explain how he overcame this hurdle of conquering what his mind and society has told him he should strive for and has finally come back to reality. What he doesn't see that he's doing is pretty much calling the girl fat, ugly and second rate since she didn't live up to his former ideal.

Talk about harsh.

Every girl- I think whether or not they admit it- wants to be told and even more, wants to know that someone truly believes they are unequivocally beautiful. Captivating, exhilarating, breath taking, natural. . .something. . .whatever the word they choose, it's a reflection of the core desire to be admired and noticed.

Regardless of shifting ideals, the conversation just doesn't need to be broached. Because, while most women are classy enough to never seem offended at this inadvertent insult, most guys never take the time to realize that our ideals have shifted too.

green eyes

2007-09-14T11:00:00.000-08:00

i get embarrassed easily.
i go and read other people's blogs and their thoughts just blow my mind. not because they are necessarily profound or anything. . .just funny and witty and not consumed with the trivial things that apparently are what occupy my life. and then i get uncomfortable because i read their words and imagine their life to be so much better or at the very least drastically different than mine.
my blogs mainly consist of my rantings about injustice, my dreams, people, my heart, hope. . .nothing really funny or pleasant in it. . .just my quest and my life. . .all things trivial, meaningless in the end and devoid of humor. . .how drab.
genius, i am not. . .writing, i love. . .others, i envy

pity

happy birthday!!!

2007-09-13T12:00:00.000-08:00

today is my cousin's 30th birthday! it's very exciting, indeed.
i wish i was there to celebrate with her. . .we'd probably go to carrabba's and drink their white sangria. . .
it's difficult to celebrate someone who matters so much when they live so far away. i wish i could just wrap her up in a hug and sit on her living room floor and laugh at the inane television and her beautiful daughter.
if we were sitting there now we'd be discussing my two newest tattoos and how long it's been since we've seen each other and how our families annoy the hell out of us and how we are so blessed that they do. and then i'd probably mention something about some guy somewhere, just because i do. . .and she would laugh at me and we would giggle.
you see, we have these great conversations. . .about life, love, God, disappointments, triumphs, mistakes, dreams, our past, our future, our family. . .and it's those types of conversations that make me really thankful to have someone in my life that knows me like that. someone who has known me since i was a wee bitty baby. . .who convinced me we were cool if we put her initials in sunscreen on our backs and strutted down to the pier (i'm pretty sure i was the G). . .who was to my left on the raft when i caught that wave in my mouth and regurgitated the freshly consumed traditional lunch of pb & j with lemonade at mum's. . .who was in the pool when i completed my first back dive and thought i was pretty much qualifying for the olympics. . .who was there when those canadian guys taught us how to ask if we spoke french in french and nothing else. . .who did my rad eye makeup for me when i wanted to kick it up a bit in high school. . .who tried to convince me i would survive walking through the ginormous school of sting rays and who didn't leave me stranded on the sandbar even though i was making a wretched, blithering fool of myself. . .who watched lady & the tramp and that other movie that i can't find the name of EVERY day of every summer of our childhood & adolescence. . .whose laugh is forever etched in my head. . .and you see, it's that type of history- & so much more- that encourages me on the dreary days when i'm convinced no one would miss me should i disappear. . .
and when i miss her really badly, if i close my eyes and listen hard enough i can see her face light up and her laugh hits my ears. . .and then i smile.
i love you, rachel. i miss you.
happy birthday.

me thinks too much

2007-08-29T16:55:00.001-08:00

i always thought i'd marry young. . .not that my present age is old, but i think i remember believing i would be married by now. . .don't get me wrong- i'm not disappointed at my current singleness- i'm appreciating it.
in part, i think because i saw marriage as the end all- as that place, that reward, for those people. . .all those people who are enough. . .pretty enough, smart enough, witty enough. . .i saw it as this high place, reserved only for those fortunate enough to be found and chosen.
also, i think i was afraid. afraid of my 'otherness'- or at least unaware of its existence. it's a scary thought when unfamiliar with yourself, your dreams (outside of being discovered), your fears, your successes- future and past. . .it's a frightening thing when the blinders are taken off for the first time and you realize that you had such a limited view of your reality. and it sometimes can be a scary thing to think of going it alone in this world.
this journey of mine, this perpetual search for my otherness, so i am able and ready to contribute to a healthy relationship, has taken many twists and turns, has come to a screeching halt, and has also & most importantly taken me blissfully down this road of life- happy for the adventure, hopeful for my other and always thankful for God's grace.
i'm becoming more my own each day. . .no longer quick to judge, more comfortable with what i believe, what i am willing to give up, with the power of my choices, the sound of my voice and laugh, the direction i'm heading, who i am serving, who i have left behind, who has left me behind, and who i am becoming. comfortable to make mistakes and take the time to learn from them because they're mine. there is risk and adventure to be had in forging our own way, choosing our interests, beliefs, pursuits and living our credo. not independent of God. . .but independent of the familiar- of what we grew up with, truly look at ourselves, take responsibility for who we are and move on from that point. . .
i am learning to be content. . .to have a deepened understanding that i am who i am. i am changing, being changed, unlike anyone else and therefore at a different place than anyone else. it's comforting to know that i won't leave this place unchanged. . .
i'm at a peaceful place. . .learning my worth is not determined by what others say or what i do- but by God's decree. my security is because of and in Him alone. i'm coming to terms with the departure of my past, throwing off my old self, assuming a new position in life and arriving at a state of grace.
grace for others. . .and for me.

profound

2007-08-25T19:48:00.000-08:00

so this thought occurred to me and it rocked my world. . .
i like to help people. i like to help people i don't particularly like. and i don't know why, but i do. so i offered my assistance to this person i enjoy. and well, he took it because he needed help. almost immediately after the deed was done, i became particularly cynical regarding my assistance, because i find that i have a tendency to offer too much in order, i guess, to make myself indispensable and attractive to others. well, i became cynical because i figured this frelationship would end just like the others. . .and i got kind of bitter, saying to myself, "people only want what i can offer and are not very interested in who i am. they ask for what i can do for them and don't ask for my heart- which is really what i'm trying to market" and it was about that time that God interceded and kindly pointed out, that's what i do to Him.
ouch. but a sweet ouch.
i want to change. i don't want to be solely interested in what God offers me- life, grace, freedom, love, mercy, peace, joy, strength. . .- but i want Him. His heart, His vision, His purpose for me. . .i want Him.

Why?

2007-08-17T09:29:00.003-08:00

Why do we say the things we do? Why is it that when you share a story with another, something about your past, existence, dreams. . .it feels as though something is lost? It’s almost as if it’s no longer yours. . .it’s a shared experience.

I used to share all my stories, well most, up front in hopes that someone would see through the veneer and stick around to find out who I was. And then, I decided to try and not spill my guts, but rather to wait and see if they merit the information given. I prefer the latter. . .but it ups the ante for me now. If I tell something that previously I would have told almost anyone, but is now remaining a secret for those special few that are actually able to breach the walls I’ve so cleverly (and recently) put in place, it becomes very intimate.

Why?

I feel embarrassed now when I didn't before. Maybe that I showed a bit much of myself with the emotion- I guess the stoic capability of telling my pain was lost when I decided it wasn’t public information.

thinking. . .intensely. . .

2007-08-14T17:51:00.000-08:00

yes, obsession. . .that is the topic today.
i find myself obsessed, er thinking intensely, about a weekend-long event that took place a over month ago with a person i barely know. it's ridiculous, to say the least and shouldn't even be on my radar, but alas, it is and i find myself thrust into this sick cycle of mental acrobatics trying to piece it all together.
and the truly sick thing about it? is that i think there is some way that i can influence the current situation. . .and apparently by beating it to death, my ever hopeful self thinks something will happen. i don't ever feel like i've fully explained myself and i don't think it's clear how much it truly doesn't matter to me. . .i could go either way in this situation- with or without it and i feel like i can't make that clear! but in the end, all my antics and attempts to explain away just how truly unimportant this event was, i give it value. and i look like a fool. ugh.
enough said. over it. and done.

intimacy

2007-08-04T23:18:00.002-08:00

it's a scary word, isn't it?
what is it about intimacy that we shy away from? is it the vulnerability? the possibility of rejection? the chance of running out of things to say and not having any new growth? is it scary because we don't even know what it means?
everyone has an intrinsic need for intimacy. for as frightening as it may be to admit. . .i believe everyone wants to be known. to be truly known, inside and out, and still be loved.
so we play our games, get to know people, let a few people in and inevitably we get hurt because trying to place boundaries on a concept is tricky. sometimes we take the risk and let someone in further. . .for some it works out, for others still it doesn't and they have the chance at starting at 'go' once again.
there is something so attractive about people who are intimate- genuinely intimate. . .nothing shallow or conniving about it. . .someone who is just really open to the possibilities that are created when previous strangers get together and have deep conversations.

rambling vomit. . .

2007-08-03T22:54:00.000-08:00

perhaps it's the fear of success that keeps us from pursuing those dreams. . .it's what makes us shelve the ideas in hopes the passion would die down, or at least taper off in our older age so that we are able to redirect it and create another dream- a more tame and manageable one. . .one that we are pretty confident we would succeed in. . .but is that any way to live? in a world where safety is becoming less and less of a sure thing, it seems like the paths of our lives, the dreams we decide to pursue, are becoming routine and mundane. excitement is left for those in the spotlight. . .the public lives vicariously through them.
we live in a culture that is numbing at best. we have babies having babies. celebrities influencing our morality. pundits pushing their agendas. expletives are used as every part of speech. education has been replaced by entertainment; faith by religion. we've confused wisdom with knowledge. Truth has been thrown by the wayside.
somehow, i think in our age of convenience we've pushed out the good in life and filled the void with more useless and trivial experiences. we are teaching the next generation to settle for the 'here and now' without a vision for what their life could be, and without hope. we live as though our temporary wishes and wants should be focused on and enhanced, as though by doing that we are truly living.
it seems like the things that are lasting and the things that would radically alter our lives and ourselves are what we actually avoid. those desires lay dormant, still needing to be realized, and in our own ways, we go about to fill them in mindless, reckless and numbing activities.
so perhaps it's the fear of succeeding, of pushing ourselves, of finding out what we are really made of and what we were really called to do that keeps us from even trying. we are content to dream about such things but incapable of seeing it to fruition.
we are fooled into believing that if we stay within the safety of our faculties, we will be happy. . .so we leave the dreaming for children and continue to conduct our lives in our false sense of created security.
is it the fear that if we do unleash our dreams and feed them and nurture them and pursue them. . .is it the power in the success that is scary? and not power in a domineering kind of way. . .but in a quiet strength. . .the resolve and stubbornness that we can follow through with something. . .is it the perceived responsibility of the next challenge we take on should have the same results as the previous one? everyone has to fail at some point. . .so if we succeed in attaining what we were made to do/be. . .does it up the ante for the next dream? dreaming is risky. . .but actually intentionally living out those dreams can be fatal. . .maybe it's just not worth the risk?
all this rambling still leaves my question unanswered though. . .so is it the fear of success, the fear of failure, the fear of dreaming, the fear of ridicule, the fear of responsibility. . .it's the fear of something, this i know. . .maybe knowing that is good enough for now. . .

my recent trip. . .

2007-07-28T14:19:00.000-08:00

i recently took a trip. . .and not in a metaphorical or nostalgic kind of way. . .but an actual trip. it was marvelous. i went with a new friend to the little town of Seward. we left a couple days after my big brothers wedding. . .the weather on the drive down was as spectacular as the conversation and company. . .
it was glorious. . .and a much needed time of respite and discovery. . .muah

fear pains

2007-07-25T22:50:00.002-08:00

is it the fear of failure that keeps us from pursuing our dreams or is it the fear of dreaming itself?
i look at me, so full of hope, idealistic, happy and a dreamer. . .i've always dreamed. . .i make it a practice to dream on a regular basis so i don't lose the ability to dream. i pursue different things, but it's the most important, those that make my knees weak and head swim that i leave on the shelf. why is that?
love & writing
i love. i like everyone until they give me a reason not to. i love people before i should. i love in spite of not being loved in return. there is something in me that loves to love. i love beauty, color, rain, tears, joy, peace, kindness, old people, young people, babies, my family, myself, my past, tattoos, blemishes, scars, stories. i fight pain with love. i fight with love. i try and use my words for love. . .but usually i fall short. i love despite being hurt. maybe i love because i think i can conjure its existence into my life? i don't know.
i write. i've been told that i have talent when it comes to writing. . .personally, i think those who say that just don't read as often as they should. . .and i think this dreaming started when i was a kid and my grandmother would send me national geographic- she was always broadening my horizons and filling my head with ideas about far and away places that beckoned me to dream of places and images i have yet to see. inevitably i would stare at the pictures, mark the pages and revisit them often.
something was stirred back then that i still nourish and treasure. i love to write, this is true. it's cathartic for me. . .but it's also terrifying. there is something so vulnerable about putting words on paper, something so permanent about writing that i get lost sometimes. my emotions undoubtedly spill into my words; objective writing was never my strong suit.
i look at others my age, so sure of themselves and what they are to do in life. . .and for the most part, i know that nursing is for me. i love it. i have a propensity for nourishing people and i enjoy pouring into others' lives. and practically speaking. . .it's the best option. it makes my heart happy to help people and i know that i can support myself for as long as i'm alive working as a nurse.
but in my dreams. . .in those dreams that are so big and daring and frightful that you only dare to take them off the shelf for an instant. . .those dreams that you can't stand to stare directly in the face for fear of being overwhelmed with desire. . .i write.

random observations

2007-07-25T00:55:00.000-08:00

it's almost one and sleep has still not overtaken me. . .i've been musing over a few things here and there that really have nothing more to do with each other than their origin and the pen with which they were written.
~~~
There is a major component of trust in love. . .for it is where those two intersect that you are finally free to be who you thought you never could be around anyone else. . .yourself.
~~~
My heart can only speak of what it knows- silence, hurt, fear, you, restraint. . .but when it dreams, oh my dreams. . .it's no longer hindered; hope takes over and the love I imagine is transcendent.
~~~
At what point does age beget maturity? Why is it when an older person, say my grandmother, acts younger than she is, it's deemed a good thing but when a moderately aged person acts younger, it's immaturity? Why is being youthful in one context positive and the other negative?
~~~
Relationships are a tricky thing. . .they involve two of the most fluid things in existence: people and life. And even though this 'fluid' notion grates against my ever-dwindling idealistic tendencies. . .there's a peace in there as well. Something about knowing that tomorrow everything could change makes me excited!

love. . .

2007-06-13T11:38:00.001-08:00

it's always been an enigmatic concept for me to grasp until the other day. . .something clicked and i can almost wrap my head around a facet of it.
for me love is a song i've heard for years and for the first time during this millionth play, i hear a lyric that strikes deep in my core and it's as if the song was rewritten since the last time i heard it. it shatters through misconceptions & disbelief; wipes away hurts and hope is brought to life once again.
or it's that Bible verse you've read since you were in utero and for some reason you see it in a different light, with different eyes and you experience it rather than just read it.
it's that rush of relief you have when at last your face breaks through the surface of the water and you're able to breathe for the first time after being submerged for what seemed like eternity and your lungs have been screaming to get air.
it's in the reminder that you're loved- however big or small- and you smile as you blush at its remembrance.

it completely rearranges my priorities, changes my perspective, sweeps me off my feet and knocks the breath out of me. . .this drug, this marvelous thing called love. . .it drives my existence, gives me hope, and makes me smile. . .

travels. . .

2007-04-15T15:40:00.000-08:00

i can't believe it's been over a year since i've been out of the country. my word. i wish i could get on a plane tonight to get the heck out of dodge, go get lost on a beach, lose myself at an outdoor market- rub shoulders with strangers as i walk past them and marvel at my surroundings.
under two weeks and i'll be on a plane. . .only to return to florida and only for two weeks. . .but still, at least i feel like i'm going somewhere for the time being. the countdown is on. . .

my heart quickens at the thought of going to a new place. i can't wait to be finished with this year so i can travel for a bit. . .it starts in december when i head to hawaii for a lovely time of respite!!!

australia, tasmania, new zealand, hawaii, italy, brasil, the maldives, ireland, fiji, thailand, new york, vancouver bc. . .ugh. . .lets get going!!!

happy

2007-04-13T10:51:00.000-08:00

i get terribly excited when the seasons change.
new days hold new things,
promises are made,
birds return to their roosts,
the sun shines,
the earth sighs and
the warmth that has been hiding
the past 6 months creeps out.

it's a marvelous process.

just can't explain...

2007-04-11T23:23:00.000-08:00

how peculiar it is to look back at where i used to be and see how far i’ve come.
it’s encouraging with that view in mind to turn and face the mountains ahead. . .

happy to be...

2007-03-29T15:33:00.001-08:00

happy!
i really am. i'm like summer. . .mostly sunshine, some rain and dark clouds, but warm nonetheless. . .
i don't understand people that refuse to be happy. believe me, i can be cynical to beat the band. . .but quite honestly, what's so wrong with finding the good things in life to focus on?!
i like to laugh. i like warm climates. i like water. i like love. i like to smile. i am happy hearted. i like to feel important to people, but at the same time, for some reason, i like to make myself a non-event when possible. . .especially on those days when there is an event to celebrate, it's most fun to pass under the radar. . .it is after all, the best secret to hold. . .

why the bearded lady will never win

2007-03-13T19:15:00.000-08:00

this thing we all partake in- this daily circus we live in is tiresome.
it’s difficult to not get caught up. it’s hard not to get carried away.
it’s good to have people around you to keep you grounded.
but most importantly, it’s imperative to remember who your Creator is, because He makes it all make sense. and somehow, through all the struggles and striving, He pulls you out of it and reminds you, this is not your home.

impatience

2007-03-04T23:20:00.000-09:00

i’m terribly impatient.
really.
i wish i could slow life down in order to appreciate it, but alas, i can’t.

i hope i’m able to remember these times so i can tell them at dinner...just think of the stories we’ll be able to tell...

something beautiful

2007-02-20T23:19:00.000-09:00

When asked what he thought was beautiful he stated simply, "Imperfections." He went on to define those as flaws- things like cracks in the sidewalk or stretch marks. He finds those beautiful. It struck me as odd, simply because those two things are not what would strike me as attractive.
It’s nice to look at the crack for what it is and for what it could be. . .that maybe it’s the one place a flower could grow- that it’s the one detail in the endlessness of cement that catches your eye- that it’s the one spot that allows life to poke through and flourish- that its very presence and uniqueness is a break from monotony- that a crack may be what allows us to see the beauty in being human.
Alas, I agree- there IS beauty to be found and experienced that is hidden beneath the generics of life and can ONLY be seen through life’s imperfections. . .
I’m still workin on the stretch marks though. . .

convinced

2007-02-16T23:21:00.000-09:00

i'm convinced that as humans, if we go too far we never come back.

and by that, i mean this. . .when you make a judgment about someone and cut them out of your life, it’s not too far before you have no recourse to salvage anything and that makes me sad.

cuz even if one day you realize the wrong done to you didn’t merit the reaction it got from you, you can’t do anything about it because you’ve already spent so much time convincing yourself you’re justified in this matter and it would take way too much energy to try and repair what you obliterated.

i may have damaged the friendship, but you killed it. go ahead, ride this one out for the next few years. . .seems like your other issue was losing steam anyhow. . .i understand.

insecure

2007-01-15T12:22:00.000-09:00

It always amazes me how quickly insecurity can rear its ugly head and consumes all confidence. . .
And it's not the typical insecurity where people unsubtly seek for a compliment via rebuttal, but I mean the overwhelming fear and all consuming anxiety that we will be found to be unpleasant and unattractive to the core by someone whom we wish would see us otherwise.
As if we could deceive them into thinking that we're something we're not. . .we continue to hope no one calls us on our crap. You avoid pictures because you don't want memories of what you look like, you despise mirrors because it shows the reflection of how repulsive you truly are.
It's a sick cycle. . .we fear the truth but almost half wish someone would speak it, as if validating our repulsiveness would actually free us of it. . .you feel fragile at any rate. . .broken if they find you unattractive and a fraud if they find you attractive. . .where does this battle come from?!?!
And then you get aggravated with yourself because of your insecurity. . .it's unfounded and irrational. . .finally, you surface from your self-inflicted drowning session and realize that voicing your concerns have relegated you to the shallow end of society.

Yeah. . .

2006-12-25T19:38:00.000-09:00

I'm that girl.
I've always been that girl that falls for the guy that doesn't see her. I hang around in the background, and for some reason unbeknownst to me, I'm okay with being in limbo. As if somehow waiting around long enough to be noticed will get me where I want to be. . .like if I pay my dues, it will pay off in the end.
I've never understood, and therefore have never mastered, the art of being friends with guys. I appreciate them, I do. . .but then somewhere in the realm of the subconscious, I cross that invisible line and am thrust into this all out war between my head and my heart. I start out with the best of intentions of just being friends, but then being a romantic to the core, I change. I don't know if it's because I get to know them and like them, because it doesn't happen with every guy that I know, or if it's due to the fact that they are taking the time to get to know me and I feel secure. I just don't know anymore.
I love being known. I want to be known. I want to be sought after and cared for so when I reach out to care for them, I know I'm not wasting my time and energy on another dead end. I'm tired of getting involved, of showing a piece of my heart only to have it smashed.
For once in my life, I want to fall and be okay when I land.
For some reason, in spite of being riddled with doubt and fear, I am unable to stop my incessant hope from pushing through all the layers of years of hurt and pain. My heart is my own, yes, but for some reason and against all odds, it beats on and continues to wait in limbo for that one who will take the risk and call me his own.

Shedding

2006-08-11T17:03:00.000-08:00

After what seems like a lifetime of living in the dark shadow of "not-knowing", you wake up and lift your head. And wiping the muck of idealism from your face you realize there ARE shades of grey. That no one is going to come along and make another 'play nice.' You learn that you are responsible for your happiness and discover that you can be content with meager possessions.
You understand that just because you love someone doesn't mean they'll ever love you back. What other people think of you doesn't matter nearly as much as what you believe about yourself. And you accept there will always be those asses in your life and you can do nothing to change them. You stop wasting your breath on meaningless conversation and you stop wasting your heart on empty love. You learn that boundaries aren't forts and the difference between the protection and isolation of yourself. You find what you're willing to compromise on and maintain yourself. Love doesn't mean control but is actually a big risk that requires massive sacrifice. You finally realize that if someone is mean to you, it really has nothing to do with you, but rather a reflection of the simple fact they can't stand themselves. You grow and realize you are happy and loved. That reading really is enriching. That each day really does matter because you learn something everyday. Nothing will be even close to complete or satisfactory in this life. Religion is the establishment that breaks God's heart. We really are all the same. It occurs to you that those days when you're waiting for 'life to begin' really IS your life- so deal with it. That it's the lulls in between the spikes that makes the spikes so exhilarating. When the day is done you really have no one to answer to other than yourself and God. You shape your own worldview and determine what is important to you and you alone. That planning for the future doesn't keep you from living in the moment. You see that everyone has baggage and everyone thinks theirs is the worst. You find that you aren't the only jaded person who can be cynical and then strangely optimistic. And you learn that flaws are really nothing more than beauty marks because although you can't change what has shaped you, you can change what it has shaped you into.

Just Breathe

2006-08-10T12:36:00.000-08:00

You ever get sick of hearing yourself talk and your thoughts run around your head? I think the only thing that makes the nausea worse is by writing the thoughts down, for some reason they seem permanent; they've been written and now they're established and visible by many. In reality, my life, love and thoughts are fluid. They are constantly changing- I can go around and around on an issue only to find myself back where I started. Writing is cathartic, that's for sure. But in a way it's impairing as well- yes, I get frustrated, and then I bounce back. I wake up to find my life isn't what I thought I would be like and so I vent. But then, life evens out, things are okay and the drama I was so literally consumed by has passed and I realize life is good.
Life is good.

why do the ones who have nothing to say. . .

2006-06-27T15:39:00.000-08:00

always speak the loudest?!?!?!

having grown up in the south, i've heard a lot of crazy sayings that most people in the rest of the world would not know what they meant- but i've never been one to misuse it. i work with this lady who, when she speaks sometimes, it's like a competition to confuse the rest of us with her 'southern' jargon. in reality, it makes no sense, and i'm convinced she makes it up as she goes. but above everything else, i think what aggravates me most is the fact that in one second flat she can go from a light southern drawl to back-woods louisiana southern talk. she does it on the phone, when defending herself, in conversation. . .really, it's just not necessary.
yes, i do admit, my accent does come out sometimes, mostly when i'm embarassed or tired, but never do i flaunt it. a true southern accent is something that is rare and beautiful. it's a lilt of music, a pleasure to hear, something that draws you in and then this blowhard comes in and the wonderful music of an accent is drowned out by clashing cymbals and seagull cries.

i just don't know. . .

2006-06-16T16:37:00.000-08:00

is it the romantic in me or the idealist that enables me to fall in love with ideas? i've been all over the board. . .in love with people, cities, friends, occupations. . .and then all of a sudden it's over with. not necessarily because of any trauma or obstacle, it's just gone. sometimes i have to wonder if it's better to be oblivious than it is to be over-aware.
i dream big and my heart and mind race to see it through- that's generally when reality comes in with a big swipe of the hand and knocks me off my feet and onto my keester. the reality of it is, he's not acting if he were interested- which in my case and for my senses, i need to say that he's not interested. that stops my heart/mind before it gets off the ground. it's kinda hard to get swept off your feet if they're off the ground all the time. . .

. . .

2006-06-12T14:40:00.000-08:00

i hate it when there is a block. regardless if it's self-imposed by not processing or if it's legitimately unable to be articulated, i hate it. it's been too long since i last wrote, so much life has passed by, so many ideas simultaneously slamming into the forefront of my mind that i can't get a sentence in edgewise.
too many people talking, too many thoughts converging. . .
i sit among the empty thoughts and am pummeled by the ones that don't have the audacity to stand up and present themselves.
it's chaos at its apex, it's maddening at times. . .
i'm exhausted by the interminable questions, the unquieted fears, the unimaginable pain. . .the roar of my mind is deafening.
i laugh at who i think i've become, so quick to judge others, to ridicule myself. . .
another cycle begins. . .another question surfaces. . .once more the noise crescendos, drowning out all reason and once again solitude eludes me.

the weirdest thing ever

2006-01-31T23:16:00.001-09:00

it was the summer of 2000, i had just found perhaps the single greatest band and they were coming to stay at my parents place on the beach before heading back on the road.
one day, right before the sun was setting, i was on the beach and found this rope...the rope went into the water...i tried tugging on it to see if it would come out, but was unable to unearth the beast. i called over a few of the band members to help me and they were just as unsuccessful. we quickly realized the only way to figure out what it was, was to follow it into the gulf. so we did. the guys took turns diving down to try and undig it because at this point, we still had no clue was it was attached to. as we took a break and tread water a stingray decided to join us, swimming around us and between us...kind of spooky really when it's dusk and the sharks come around. after awhile and still with no luck trying to uncover or guess what the rope was attached to, the stingray ran into one of the guys which spooked all of us so badly that we all scampered back to the shore like little girls. (which kinda worked for me cuz i am one...) anyhow, back on the shore we realized that whoever was holding the rope had dropped it in the sudden retreat...we tried to find it again...it was lost forever...

personally, i think it was the plug to the ocean...good thing we weren't able to pull it out!

my pithy tribute to an amazing man. . .

2005-11-21T17:07:00.000-09:00

have you ever met someone that you automatically feel like you've known you're entire life? his presence puts your heart at rest? you see, i met this guy once a long time ago. . .

he makes me feel alive. he makes me feel beautiful. he makes me feel feminine and safe. he makes me feel like i could say the weirdest thing imaginable and he wouldn't walk away. he makes me want to believe that i might possibly BE beautiful!

i miss him. . .a lot and it makes me terribly sad to think that he's gone. my heart hurts physically and my mind can't fathom what this means in reality. i can't call anymore when life gets rough? no more naps in front of the fire place? no more late night conversations smoking in front of the fire? no more camping in seward?

nobody can take your place. there's been no one that knows the inside of the trenches we've seen better than you and i. you transcended my heart and spoke into my soul. you spoke my language in love, in music, in life.

i miss you more than words can say, deeper than the most eloquent poet can describe. . .all i'm left with is. . .

i miss you

...

2005-01-10T20:07:00.000-09:00

who would have thought the road i was once on would lead up to this corner of the earth....God never ceases to amaze me with His beauty and deliberate attempts to recapture my heart....He haunts me and has let me find Him up here....He is wild, so wild....