Archive for January, 2010

You know, most of the time, when I feel like crying, no matter the reason, I take a big breath of air and swallow it down. It’s probably because like Heather says, no one likes to cry outwardly, and probably because it’s turned into more of a reflex than a thought about why I may or may not want to cry.

And so, when I see a preview that reminds me of how hard it is to be alive, especially on a day where I have to keep reminding myself to trust the slow work of God, the tears tempt my eyes. And for some reason, I let them go. And I remember it feels good. And I feel connected because it is so hard for us all.

And then I think. Maybe, I should cry more.


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A Smile Away From Eternity

That’s the name of the playlist I’m listening to right now. I’ve been writing emails, chatting on Facebook, reading old emails, and generally encouraging the sort of nostalgic melancholy that all of those things do.

But, whether or not the minor tonality in the music I’m listening to is the reason for my fingers itch to write, or the deep weariness in my soul, I’ll never know. It’s 1:33 in the morning, no one knows anything at 1:33 in the morning.

But, I can’t help to think of lost friendships and Lauren Winner. I can’t help to think of the way a friend help me grieve the loss of another friend only to be the next friend I lost. Maybe it’s poetic, but mostly it’s sort of heartbreaking.

I don’t mean to seem overwrought. I try to avoid overwrought. It sounds to self-indulgent, melodramatic, and heaven forbid, Southern. But, sometimes I am all of those things despite any color I dye my hair, paint my nails, or ideas I fill my head with.

I wish there was a better way to grieve the loss of a friend. Sometimes, I think it would be easier if they died, or if it was a boyfriend who broke my heart. We have a context for that. We have a language. We have a list of things we do or don’t. I don’t, of course, wish anyone dead, I’m only saying, the emptiness in my heart where these people, once dear, used to reside, now just feels cold, and sometimes, on really hard days, the wind blows through it, making the noise that’s slightly creepy and I think about how nice it would be to just reach out and touch someone’s arm. That’s what I always want when I get scared. Just to touch someone’s arm. Just to remember that I am not alone. Just for someone to show up.

I don’t mean to sound depressed. I don’t feel depressed. I don’t even feel overwrought. I mostly just feel weary and think about how so many times in life we just seem to be running aroun like crazy people trying to touch someone’s arm because we’re scared and fragile and broken. And there’s all those people we’ve lost and the whooshing sound of the wind in the empty spaces. If our hearts were memory foam, they would take their originial shape right back, but no. People whose absences leave that hollow wind sound leave imprints more like in wet cement. But, they always let it dry before they go. And I don’t mean to say that our hearts become hard like cement, though they can, just that it’s always there. Even if you can walk on the sidewalk and never miss a step because of some small handprint, it’s still there. And it always will be.

And maybe that’s not so bad. Maybe if it went away we’d forget everything. The good parts of who they were too, because they meant something once. And maybe we would forget that even though we’re sort of fragile and scared and broken we can still make it through something hard and be ok. Maybe that’s enough to make us one day look back and even smile a little.

It’s only 12 days until my birthday. I’ll be 23. I always love birthdays. They feel fresh. And maybe I’ll celebrate with different people, but that will be ok too because I will grow and be different and it will be ok. I will look at all of my friends, the ones that saw me turn 22, the ones that didn’t. The one’s that have been watching me get older for a while now, and I will say a prayer of thanks for all of them. I will even allow some of them to come into the wet cement parts of my heart. Maybe I will make my heart less like a forgotten sidewalk scattered with people’s markings when they thought no one was looking, and more like Grauman’s Chinese Theater where the people whose handprints left are really something. And even if they flop afterwards, well, they were really something.


P.S. I did all that work on that video. You should still watch it.

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Keeping my promise…

Although horribly late.

I know, I’ve been an awful blogger lately. What can I say? Excpet, man, life has been running fast, and I’ve been praying hard and trying not to worry and get some sleep. So, remember about three blog years ago (or 2 real life weeks) when I promised a video blog. Here it is. It’s a response to Sarah’s 10 things that make you happy. Well, here it is, video style. So, if you have a spare 7:39 minutes, sit back, grab some popcorn, and watch the vid. And hopefully I’ll be back soon with some real news. Loves to all.

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That I’d update my blog.

But, instead, I’ve researched the emerging church, personality disorders, the history of the railway, Lost, non-Catholic convents, Two Guys and a Girl, looked for jobs, journaled, read, watched Bones, got mom hooked on Twilight, and done countless other things that weren’t updating my blog.

But, that’s life, mes petites choux.

And, to make it up to all of you, soon (which probably, but doesn’t definititely means tomorrow) I will make a video update. Yes, you heard right, the first ever. Because I got a webcam to skype. Which is a fantastic word you can make loads of jokes with.

Anyway, until then, I hope you’re having a lovely day.

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