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Archive for May, 2009

I am…tired.

There’s not much creativity flowing through my brain, mostly it has been about getting the weekend. I have a to do list the size of a…something rather massive. (See, I can’t even think of a brilliant simile. Literary fail). Actually, the to do list thing is a bit of a misnomer. It’s more a list of things I should put on a to do list, in my head, in hopes that this weekend I will find a few moments of energy and productivity and do something besides read memoirs and watch Netflix movies.

Not to mention, I keep vainly hoping, I’ll somehow get relieved of work. Not that I’m currently doing much, just that I could use a nap and a shower and my beloved futon.

Everything is still very odd. I find moments of harmony, though, tucked all through out the doubt and fear and insecurities. The questions, be them as they may, sometimes have me tensing my shoulders and fighting back tears, but the moments when I stop. When I uncurl my toes and unclench my fists and join hands with the suffering (sometimes the suffering is myself – and often that takes form in prayers) I can settle into a peace and I think, “Oh I’ve got this.”

“One does not discover new lands without constenting to lose sight of the shores for a very long time.”
– Andre Gide

Bring it on, big girl world.

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It doesn’t matter how many times you grow up, sometimes you still find yourself crying because you are scared of the dark. It doesn’t matter how many rationals otherwise there are, you cry your big, thick, humid drops of tears because when it comes down to it, you are scared.

And so I sat on the futon yesterday, having just gotten through a sniffly conversation with my mom, where after listening to me talk faster than a used car salesman about everything I have been thinking about lately she asked me, “Are you sad?” I was struck, because yes, I was, and yes, I am. And I have resigned to my sadness. I have chalked it up to grief and graduating, but I have let it sit in me like a still lake and the days are getting hotter. I am still learning what it means to be an adult. What those reactions look like, and as someone who is just leaving behind her green, I so badly want to do well. It is my lack of grace for my own self which turns against me.

Yesterday, I got home from work, laid on the couch and read. I so happened to glance up only to see that there was a daddy long leg the size of a coaster on the wall. I jumped up and screamed. And then stood there next to it, trying to guess if I should kill it, catch and release it, or just try to ignore it.

I feel exhausted with all of my thoughts and opinions and my stacks of books grow larger by the day. I find myself longing for community, and yet reading instead. I have only hung out with my roommate all summer, really. There have been a few exceptions, but most days that is the most that I get and I can’t help but to feel a bit crazy as well as all right.

My humid tears fell last night, like a slow breaking of a lake to a stream, that someday might grow into a river that flows right into the ocean. Until then, though, I sit most days, like a child squeezing her eyes shut so tight in hopes that she can shut out all of the dark around her, only to realize, now she has to see the dark within her.

And yet, I remember who I belong to. And sometimes I think this is what Jesus meant when He oh so mysteriously said we should be like children, or at least, this is part of it. That we should know so much who we belong to that it shapes all of what we do, who we turn to, what we say, why even our name.

So, really, I prefer to think of it less as an identity crisis and more as an identity refinement. I’m at the cusp of something. It’s hard to push into the last part of those choices, but I am trying.

By God, I am trying.

And the cycles and rhythms of each day, they fight against each other like waves, and it seems like it would be all to easy to get lost in them, and not even be sure where you started and where you ended. So, in this case, I’ll stretch for the moon and melt into the water. I’ll be wave pulled my moon, instead of driftwood tossed about. And when I come upon some driftwood, I will not try to pull them under. I will try to murmur the tongues of the moon.

You belong.

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Lately

Upon graduating, I felt a myriad of emotions ranging from incredibly empowered to incredibly terrified. It’s all a part of it, I kept telling myself.

Since then, the incredibly empowered and incredibly terrified continually switch places leaving me, on good days, a little frazzled, but still peaceful, and on bad days, feeling absolutely bonkers, desparately clinging onto the knowledge that I will be ok, by the grace of God.

And I guess, if I’m honest, that’s all I need. I don’t much like feeling bonkers and desparate, but I’ll take it because never have I felt so…whole and free. This feeling is just not what I thought it would be.

I don’t know what I thought it would feel like. I don’t know exactly what I thought was happening all this time. I just know that at this new place I’m all right. I still struggle, fight, mess up ridiculously, but I’m all right.

And that’s worth all the tears.

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I know I have more to learn. I know I’ll have to relearn and learn better some of these things. But, this is what I have learned.

I’ve learned that…
First impressions say just as much about us as they do the person we’ve met.
Sometimes the only thing to do is call your mom.
You should always apologize as soon as you realize you are wrong, even if that means calling someone back five minutes after talking to them on the phone.
If a friendship is worth it, you’ll both work at it.
Sometimes, it’s ok to let go and walk away from someone, and is best when done with forgiveness.
Forgiveness is something we give, not because we are better, but because we are the same.
We have all been the mean girl.
We have all been picked on by the mean girl.
A soft heart speaks louder than any cynic’s tongue.
Often, the person that is hardest for us to love is who needs it the most.
Sometimes, the most important thing to do is just show up.
It’s ok to say no.
It’s ok to say yes.
It’s ok to say, “I’ll think about it,” as long as you really do.
The fear of messing up should never be what stops you.
Prayer is transformative.
It’s ok to not be a grown up all the time.
Sometimes, you just need Chipotle and a movie to make your night better.
Good roommates make life lighter.
It’s ok to voice your needs.
It’s ok to talk about whatever you need to talk about, but you have to listen too.
Sometimes, trashy reality tv, is really brilliant.
Laughing so hard your stomach hurt will always turn your day around.
Crying is healing.
It’s ok to do what you have to do.
It’s ok to do what you want to do.
“The only reason they think they’re beautiful, is the same reason they think you’re not.”
Sometimes, the only thing to make it seem manageable is to drive out the country and scream in your car.
Everybody is at least a little weird.
Just because it is, doesn’t mean it should be.
Every little thing needs love.
If you don’t think you’re crazy in this world at least some of the time, then you must be crazy, because it’s crazy.
It isn’t all right.
It is all right.
Your family will always be a little bit or a lot bit crazy, but they are always your family.
Everyone (including yourself) is hard to love sometimes.
Dr. Pepper makes a hard day better.
It’s ok to be mad/sad/frustrated/screaming angry; it’s not ok to get lost in it.
Sometimes PMS makes you feel insane – remember that you’re not, and in a few days, it won’t be so bad.
We must take care of the suffering, even when the suffering is yourself.
Truth is real.
Friends and coffee are life savers.
It’s ok to be selfish sometimes.
If no one is taking the last pita bread, just take it, but be the one to ask the waiter for more.
Be crazy and carefree whenever you get the chance.
Cry as often as you laugh because they both heal different parts of the soul.
Speaking to understand accomplishes more than speaking to be understood.
Sushi and PBR don’t mix.
It’s ok that it’s hard sometimes.
It’s ok when something is easy.
We have to do things that are hard for us, but those things are often also good for us.
Grief is a part of life.
Hope is something everyone needs.

Finally,

I’ve learned that being able to rest in God is…well, it just is.

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Still.

Even though life abounds and chaos there with it, I find myself strangely still.

Even though anxiety creeps and reaches for my throat, just to tighten a little, I find myself strangely still.

Even when those around me seem to not care, I am finding myself strangely still.

This is beautiful. This stillness, hard and odd as it maybe, is teaching me to loosen my death grip, give people a break, take deep breaths, and stop pretending like I have this all together.

Even though, I may be and always will be a bit of a mess, I find myself strangely still.

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Sometimes, I see myself reaching and grasping at straws. Sometimes, I feel myself fighting so hard. Sometimes, I hear my heart weeping. Sometimes, I feel like I’m a dervish, spinning, spinning, spinning.

I see it in other people too. I guess it’s one thing we all have in common. The struggle. The fight. Sometimes, I think we get lost in it. Sometimes, I feel myself fighting, and I can’t figure out why. Sometimes, I am just sleeping.

I am not profound. I am not wise. I just am. That’s the imago dei. Are amness. The problems happen when I definition becomes centered in doing or was being or will be. These are components of amness, but never the end of.

I am just shrugging my shoulders now.

There are no words for right now. Sometimes, that’s the way of my incredibly overly articulate life. Sometimes, there is just quiet. And that’s my heart right now. It is just quiet.

And that is ok.

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