bahhhh.

right now, i do not want to do homework.
i want to
paint.
go on a walk outside with the feller.
read.
do my eyebrows.
clean.
sit in silence.
write.
make something.
do laundry.
sing.
make a fruity dessert.

anything but homework.

three
more
weeks.

bahhhh.
graduation come soon!
but not too soon.
but soon enough so i don't collapse under due dates.

this weekend was crazy.
rollercoaster much?
such is life when people are broken and messy and are looking for protection, security, and peace in dark dark places.

today i sang in my last spring concert. so much truth in our repetoire.
more on this later.

tomorrow i'm not washing my hair.
this is the advice i get from choir people.
let's hope it doesn't look too dirty.

there is so much to say.
so much i want to write about:

tour - the characters, the communities and places i touched, smelt, and listened to.
stories for stories sake.
not forsaking the Rock.
health issues.
the power of God in the face of darkness.
yadayadayada...

i think this post, having no point and zigzagging every which way, is my pitiful attempt to avoid homework.
eeks.

even my soul is wet.

did you know that this month is national poetry month?

the library at my school reminded me with this poster. 

fact: i love watercolors.

i want to write. in color and sideways on paper without lines. in black and white on screens with fonts much more legible than my own. i want to write. feelings. not just about feelings. but to completely encompass and write out the feeling itself - in all of its vibrancy, in all of its melancholy. i think this is why the romantic period is my favorite period in music history. the feelings aren't explained or deconstructed - they are experienced.

here is a poem for today, and probably this month (because this month i graduate and there is not much time for poetry, or posting poetry, when one is graduating):

Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.

Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.

Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Pablo Neruda

in the middle

this morning as i write my concert report, i am listening to Bruch's Concerto No. 1 in G Minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 26.

the soaring emotion evoked from the violin is breathtaking.

the lines sing themselves.

the phrasing pulls and releases; all passion and vigor, known well to the heart of any man or woman who has encountered longing and contentment and felt the terrible inevitable tension in the middle.

it is all drama and richness - the two victors of the Romantic period's war against the obsessive concern with form and concise expression that swept through the prior century. intellectualism left no room for tension in the middle.

le sigh.

is it strange to say that i have a sort of infatuation with the tension in the middle? 

that i indulge the tension, for the sake of the tension?

that i relish in every ascending line, slow crescendo, and hanging fermata?

i do.

i do i do i do.

p.s. the picture above is a daguerre, entitled "dioramanea". he is a romantic painter - all drama and richness. i love it.  

myself.

day two of feeling incredibly myself.

wake up at 6.
oatmeal with the feller at 6:30.
work on MIDI project 7-8.
class 8-10.
finish MIDI project 10-11.
class 11-12:30.
lunch/grad fest 12:30-1.
class 1-4.
group project meeting 4-6.

and right before the meeting started, finding my keys were locked in my car. this hasn't happened in so long. i've followed my professors advice the past year and a half or so and would check to make sure my keys were in my hands before i shut the door to my car. and if it weren't for the stack of text books, notebooks, and other miscellaneous items i was holding i would have caught this. but i didn't. and i didn't worry either. i just worked on my project. with my group. however, i was assisted after the group meeting by three boys and a hanger. my keys were pulled with force out of the small crack i left open for fresh air. enough force to frighten me and threaten their lives if they broke my window. they did it and i said thank you and we laughed at how ghetto* we all were. i went home in slight traffic. some people mind traffic. and if i have a place to be at, i suppose i do - in varying degrees - as well. but with no place to go but home and nothing to do but homework i enjoy slower drives. to think. to drink water. to be alone. to turn the radio on and off, switching stations, cds and finally deciding on silence. always, silence. (well, not always. most days. but not always.) to roll down all the windows or none depending on how quickly i get goosebumps.

now homework.
at the end of this month


i
will
be
graduating.

what a relief.
what an accomplishment.

*and when i say ghetto... i mean mexican. because i am mexican. and the person who suggested the hanger idea? mexican. the other two weren't. but they knew how mexican the whole situation was. as did the people walking by, giving us skeptical looks as we folded a hanger and wedged it through a small crack.

so delighted.

today i felt fully myself. those kinds of days are more frequent than a year ago, for that i am thankful.

as of late i have been listening to soundtracks from musicals.
duh.
specifically chicago, jekyll and hide, and phantom of the opera.
i will see chicago this summer.
with the feller and the roommate/his girlfriend we don't often hang out with.
how exciting!
i think i want to perform in a musical after i graduate.
sometime within the first year, maybe next spring.
the ensemble is enough to satisfy me - i just love the music, the movement, the stories, the expressions...
all of it.


four weeks until i graduate.
eeks!

today is good.
mother just called me down for dinner.
chicken.. rice pilaf... need i say more?
then off to school and a night spent in costa mesa.
acting, recording music, reading and writing.
and sleeping on a floor that isn't mine but one i've grown to love.
today is good, did i mention that?


also, i love my life.
and the professors who help me untangle things.
and the professors who offer to help the feller and i untangle things.
love works through things. for the joy set before it.
love is not about a winner or a loser (though it is so easy to divide into camps and declare war instead of serving, sacrificing, and prefering the other, instead of sitting in front of eachother, hands held, tears rolling, lives committed, working with eachother).
love perseveres.
and persevere, we will.*

sigh.
i am so delighted with my lot.

*love does and is many other things. and while i may know them, i desire to learn through life experiences and the demands of relationships. it will be hard work. but if these past months have been an indicator of anything... it's that all of the hard work is worth it. all of it.

go at it alone,

and though i will go at it alone,
today will better.

spent

the drive home was all nausea and headache.
it was tiredness and dismay.
it was fury and fraility.

the demands of these last five weeks intimidate me.
school, work, internship.
relationships with family and friends.
and the looming decisions i must make, though i feel pressed and pressured and backed into a corner by the loved and the loathed.
i feel as though the loved and loathed have determined to dismantle what little rest and peace i have right now in my busy, busy life by questioning me (desiring only my submission) and having me reevaluate and restate my reasoning until i feel as if my very reasoning is no more than the unbalanced, delirious logic of an equally unbalanced delirious young woman.

i am spent.
i feel the quiet fracturing of my will.
my patience.
my wonder.
my stamina.
my passion.
my trust.

in all of my undone-ness i slipped out of today's apparel and into my sister's eighth grade basketball sweats and the feller's t-shirt. i borrow clothes. i keep the clothes i borrow. within five minutes underneath white sheets and watercolored comforter, i fell asleep. heavy, deep, and deserved. and while i am no more made up than i was before the nap, i have the advantage of a more rested body.

the fracturing is still there.
some things are too difficult for me to do.
some things i just refuse to do or further discuss.

and in my ungraceful collapse under the difficulty of situations and my own refusal to comply to the wishes of the loved and the loathed,
i am spent.

like i know

oh, i have so much to write!

but for now, as the second day of spring bleeds into the third, i have this song:

nothing says spring like brooke fraser.
i almost saw her once with the feller for our annual christmas dinner with jackie+josh. but the feller and i were both twenty and too young to legally attend. instead we spent the evening at balboa park while the other two enjoyed dim lighting and jokes hailing from new zealand. that was a hard night on stone steps in a quiet stubborness under a luminous moon. it was followed by a blissful afternoon on cold grass in a crescendo of vulnerability under a dance between the sun and the shadows the next day. and a kiss on the forehead goodbye. the first one. december '10. chills. and surprise. and laughter. just lovely.

sigh


God is so good. i know this like i know my heart is beating like i know my nailpolish is chipped like i know wooden floors are smooth and carpeted floors are rough. His goodness, though not always obvious, is real and concrete.

the lord reigns

the lord reigns, he is robed in majesty;
the lord is robed in majesty
and is armed with strength.

the world is firmly established;
it cannot be moved.
your throne was established long ago;
you are from all eternity.

the seas have lifted up, o lord,
the seas have lifted up their voice;
the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.
mightier than the thunder of the great waters,
mightier than the breakers of the sea -
the lord on high is mighty.

your statutes stand firm;
holiness adonrs your house
for endless days, o lord.

psalm 93

all of that energy

fact: i am busy

this week:
fifty short answer questions for worldview
first (and) second round of scenes from doubt for acting
finale project for midi
interview due for abnormal psychology
voice recital
voice performance class
start and finish research for presentation for world civilization
attend two hour classical music performance
usher at a play
prepare for onslaught of exams next week

next week:
four exams (abnormal psychology, cognitive psychology, music history/literature, and worldview)
reason project for midi
paper about play i ushered at
and on friday i will leave for choir tour, which happens to be placed during spring break (my only possible opportunity for rest dashed!).

[all of this in between classes, work, and an internship]

fact: i do not have time to work things out and extend myself to remedy situations. i do not have the energy to even try and approach such things. because all of that energy is being poured into all eight of my classes, my own attempts at self care and my disciplined and joyous care for those i am closest too.

make well

this morning i am holding thankfulness closely.

and letting it make well my sick, fearful heart.

perpetually cold

i want to write. i need to write.
but because the weeks go by quickly and the hours even quicker
i have not written.

i am a busy girl this semester.
22 units.
internship.
work.

but before i endeavored a few more hours of brisk typing,
i was perusing blogs.
and i found this:

dear whoever is reading this,

this is me. add a sweater. leggings underneath the sweats. and it's even better.

love,
a perpetually cold young lady.

look again.

past all difficulty.

this week i am learning that life getting better doesn't mean you have gotten past all difficulty. it also doesn't mean that you won't be bothered by the things you thought you resolved days, months, and years ago.

and while i would love for life to be this way. while i wish some people would disappear completely (because, let's face it people are messy and i'd rather leave the excessively messy ones behind. or at least the ones who stir things up that i'd rather be left alone. oh, and the ones who just won't go away and insist on being an impeding presence in some area of my life.). while i wish things could be resolved once and once only.

i know that something good will

come out of this...

more self-love

a surer sense of who i am

a well-primed ear to listen

a well-trained tongue to speak

better conflict resolution skills

strengthened relationships

it doesn't mean i always want to push through and cry through and work through and think through and talk through and process process process. because it's tiring and i have had enough of life's difficulties. and i have exams to study for and papers to finish and presentations to prepare and an internship and work to attend. the busyness of right now paints processing as not worth it, not productive, not conducive to maintaining low-stress.

but this evening, as i cared for myself in small ways,* i was able to gain some perspective

and some clarity. and while the fog hasn't lifted completely - feelings never lift and clear easy, do they? - i know that the processing is worth it. even though i hate it at times.

*making my bed. folding a weeks worth of clothes i wore and didn't wear piled on a chair. putting dark clothes to wash. working out. long shower. plucking my eyebrows. it's amazing how these small things soothe a mind weary of unresolved conflict.

p.s. i also wrote out five pages today, in between classes and on breaks, to help me think more clearly in preparation for a conversation that is happening tomorrow. i only do this in situations that are tangled like hair that hasn't been brushed.

p.s. i wish difficulty didn't come at such an inopportune time. my birthday is friday for goodness sakes! but i cannot schedule in difficulty. how unfortunate.

miranda sings

last night i went to [la] and i saw miranda sings.

it was fantastic.

today i made the best sandwich i've ever made:

french roll.

butter lettuce.

honey ham.

tomato.

havarti cheese.

alfalfa sprouts.

avocado.

light mayo.

spicy mustard.

so good.

i am thankful for

date afternoon/nights with the feller,

which include lazy dog cafe and waching this movie

and our favorite spot in our neck of the woods

and lots of kisses

and lots of dreaming

and lots of thankfulness.

a computer to do homework on.

the fine ladies who accompanied me to [la].

conversations until almost four in the morning.

friends friends friends.

new church family.

*long brown skirts like this.

*i finally bought one (sans pockets). and love it.

nothing good gets away.

today before attempting to do homework. i found this here..

it made me smile.

JOHN E. STEINBECK

A Letter to His Son | New York | 10 November 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.

But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,

Fa

from a hole

today will be good.

i've decided that much already.

yesterday i gave up on getting dressed and going out but i still ended up having quite a good day. snacking with the family and the feller after church. reading reading reading. mom's soup. vegetables and warm broth. chicken salad sandwiches. more reading. some naptime (duh, have you looked outside? it's perfect nap weather). and more reading with intermittent ice cream breaks. and before the feller left, conversation. good conversation.

yesterday, even after insecurity had its way with me i was able to emerge slowly in the midst of those i love, because of those i love - who remind me who i am.

this morning, i am thankful for the emergence that happens every so often from a hole that has many names (fear, self-loathing, etc.).

i am thankful that He rescues me because He delights in me, that He brings me out into a spacious place (think psalm 18). i am thankful that i had the courage, with the prompting of others, to cooperate with Him and not resist His rescue - yesterday and eight months ago.

so today, this blog is everywhere. but that's because i have to leave in two minutes.

cheers to rainy days.

cheers to wearing two leggings and two pairs of socks because i am cold.

cheers to having six classes today.

cheers to looking forward to things (like dinner with the feller).

you resign

and some days no matter how promising things seem,

you resign to insecurity.

because it's easier

and you don't have the energy to try

and you don't have the strength to push through.

today is that day.

joy!

*

today i am thankful for

waking up periodically through the night,

conscious enough to identify the sound of water plummeting earth

sleeping in until 8:30 am**

the quiet light of rainy mornings

the inevitable grey of the sky

orange juice

lounge clothes

a fireplace

a pile of books (read: homework)

the family

the feller,

whom will come with his own pile of books (read: homework)

and for a new way of thinking about things,

which will be shared soon enough.

also, i have no reason to leave the house today.

joy!

*i wish i had the balls (yes, i said it) to be outside in the cold at the beach. but i don't. i am always always cold.

**with classes at 8 am (20-40 min from home, depending on traffic) and work at 6:45 am (much much closer), 8:30 am is a luxury only to be afforded on saturday mornings, and sometimes on sundays.

this mammoth

sitting on the swings in a cherry button down and a choker around my neck (do you remember those?), i moved the sand below methodically in circles, in squares, in zig-zags. it was the summer before fifth grade and the sun was in limbo between high noon and dusk. i was pondering the costs of plastic surgery. that same summer, a group of almost fifth graders sat atop beige lunch tables. the game to be played was truth or dare. and being almost fifth graders the subjects tended towards grown up matters. mercedes, a blonde, athletic, obnoxious girl, began that days festivities. even though i despised her meanness, i wanted to be a part. and when the subject of body image came up, when i chose truth and mercedes, malicious in tone and intent, asked about contentment with size and shape and all things i feared and had begun to hate only months before... i lied. mercedes had a knack for extracting the truth, as most bullies do. her perception, her easy way of sifting through steady eye contact found me out. the next day, tshe said quite bluntly that i wished my body was different and began to make comparisons to the pop culture icons of the time. i was embarrassed. i was ashamed. and that afternoon i developed a skill for hiding behind laughter and sarcasm. this would later turn into hiding behind academic achievement - achievement in general. and the spokes on the wheel spun faster faster faster.*

there are parts of my body that i feel intense shame for.

parts that i am not sure i will ever learn to celebrate.

and while i can concede that i am beautiful - sexy, even - i can only do so with hesitation, with a shuddering "... except for this part or that part of me." i can only concede because i've known myself to beautiful and sexy on the lap of a male - as an object of someone's affection and pleasure. i can only concede because others have told me, because i have felt their approval. but i do not approve.

the past few months i have finally had time to revisit this area of my life, this mammoth of a subject: beauty and the acceptance of one's own beauty and the celebration that follows. so i have been reading articles and visiting websites of women - young and old - who have dealt with similar issues. i have been educating myself on the place the media has in this tormentous struggle for self-love. i have been buying lovely delicate items that force me to accept the smallness and bigness, the shapelessness and shapliness of my body. i have been attempting to treat my body well in diet (read: consistent and healthy eating habits) and exercise (read: consistent and healthy bodily exertion).

earlier this month i stumbled upon a post by meg fee.

i adore her blog. her words. the honest place she speaks from.

here is a quote:

"what i look like will change with time. my weight will fluctuate. the lines on my forehead will crease. the gray hairs will take hold and multiply. but my mind, my intelligence, the light behind my eyes--that (God willing) will remain. more than that (again, God willing) it will grow and burgeon.

[...]

the opinions of others regarding what i look like will matter only with my consent. it will be how i feel from within my body--inside the sweet-spot of life that will dictate my response. i won't need a mirror or a scale or any of the trappings to provide me with what i've somehow always known but often doubted: that i am, in fact, yes, beautiful. "

*this excerpt is one of many moments - mostly small - that i have confronted. sad sad sad. hopefully, if courage permits, i will be able to share more. the degree of body shame i feel disallows me to talk in specifics. for that, i cannot apologize. i have wasted years apologizing for my body and apologizing for my shame.

the same effect.

school is not yet in full swing. i have not felt the shove of deadlines, though they all are written in my planner. yes, a semester's worth of due dates in a red-orange hue, in a heavy inked pen are all there waiting - and i'd like to think yearning with fierce desire - to be crossed off.

*

so here i am in the library: sifting though blogs, capturing the words of others and holding them tight, curious if the words i offer up to a vast, truly incomprehensible world (even online. especially online.) have the same effect. and suddenly i am swept with the urge to write. even my text to the feller about a subject which could only elicit drop of the jaw was more finely tuned.**

yesterday was good. today hasn't been so bad either. but yesterday is the subject at hand. tuesdays and thursdays are early days. yesterday i managed to have cereal. frosted mini wheats before work at 6:45 am is ideal. (anything before 6:45 am is ideal.) i am a cereal girl through and through. i adore the children i work with. that's all i will say for now. i also adore driving to work (only five-ten minutes away) and seeing the sky, lush as velvet, dyed with color. its complexion varies but never lacks in vibrancy or the zing and zip of life. hurriedly i got home from work. showered. dressed. filled my water bottle. and on my way to do homework with the feller, i sang loudly the hymn listed in my devotional. it is one of my favorites. it was wonderful to see him. (i always feel strange when talking about happy circumstances. i know better the sadder ones, the ones inundated with darkness. i have explored the painful subtleties of sadness: twinges of resentment, pangs of fear, stitches of confusion. sadness is a labyrinth i have spent much time in. happiness is less of a labyrinth and more of, for lack of a better metaphor, an open field. as much as i pride myself on my love of freedom, it scares me so. i would much prefer the mossy grey walls of a labyrinth that i know. at least, that is my natural inclination. but as i said before, things are changing.) i digress. the feller and i spent time in a study room on the second floor of the library. it just felt so incredibly good to be with him. shared joy. shared laughter. shared avoidance of responsibilities (like those times last semester when holding each other close was more prized than scribbling lecture notes in a room that is too cold). i love sharing life with him. classes for two hours or so. and then more time with the feller. he is remarkably attractive. especially in a henley. or that sweater he wore wednesday. especially when he is so close. after canoodling (mean girls reference, anyone?) too long we made sandwiches. deli-style. rolls. avocado. sprouts. provolone. ham. turkey. tomatoes. and had fresh tangelos. so juicy! then off to work again. then off to the internship. then home to father's steak and beans and mother's vegetables and mashed potatoes. i went to bed fairly early and accidentally left a candle on all night. thankfully, the house didn't catch fire.
yesterday was good.

*a picture should go here. i can't find one. lo siento.
**see here i used a musical expression about language. i am more aware of this - this pairing of concepts and words and subjects - because of the recent discussion of a condition named synesthesia in my cognitive psychology class. watch this. it is, i promise you, fascinating.

first day

today was the first day of the spring semester.

(my last spring semester of my undergraduate career).

morning came too early: 6:30 am.

classes came too quickly: five in all, with errands and to do lists accomplished in between.

exhaustion came too easily: after class, the feller and i went to target - my idea. the purpose of heading to one of the most beloved stores ever was to buy nail polish. to do my nails while the feller napped. to treat myself. to care for myself. to do something repitious. to do something that required little thought and all of my attention.

and even though i dislike the upkeep painted nails require, it felt good to do it.

it was just for me.

this evening i had dinner and tea with a friend.

good stuff.

i am still tired.

and have work at 6:45 am.

did i mention i'm taking 22 units? that i'm working? that i'm interning?

yea, we'll talk about that later.

in your chest: all gifted

update: crossed out items have been purchased

"if you can't let go, you can't put your heart back in your chest."

via iain thomas.

also, i want the book of poetry he recently released.

it is based off of his blog, which i frequent.

my fatigue

the truest fact about friendship is that it takes work.

there was something odd about yesterday. you see, it is not a friendship i would have fallen into naturally. it is not a friendship i was even sure i wanted a month or so ago. what is it then? this is what i am trying to identify, to determine. what is it? i can say emphatically that it is forced, that it is a result of arguments and being fed up and choosing (oh, that word) to give chances and leave room for growth and the possibility of God-knows-what. this is a forced friendship. however, it being forced does not detract from the opportunity in front of me and from the undeniably exquisite individual that sat adjacent to me on a forest green couch. she has dreams, opinions, a sharp personality. solid girl. and i never doubted this - except for the outbursts i eavesdropped on and was told about. but even in those theatrical displays of emotion, i knew it likely that she was finding her way in a messy situation. how i wished she would have held her tongue! how i desired of her only one thing - to let go! i know the urges well. and have, like her, had to deal with the repurcussions of such foolishness, regardless the many ways we justify our rants and interjections and clinging. i know the pangs of heartache and the fatal realization that what once was real, solid, tangible is now slipping, quickly, through one's fingertips. yes, i could contextualize my contempt for this young lady and, while trying my hardest not to rationalize it and give it an 'okay,' understand where she is coming from (and, honestly, relate).

this is all vague. all horribly vague. but the outcome of this all... is friendship. an awkward extension of my hand (and hers) in hopes that something can be salvaged, restored.

what was odd about yesterday had nothing and everything to do with her. my speech, the way i carried conversation had no direction. i have recently discovered that i often interupt myself. the order of stories evades me. all easiness is far removed. this is usually with those i am not intimately acquainted with. and given the circumstances, it makes sense that this is the self i put forward. guarded. detached. fake laughs (or should i say, nervous laughs). the appearance of being something, fueled by the need to be something. if she ever over the course of our time together yesterday questioned, as i did: why am i doing this? why the hell am i choosing this? i had to give her a reason. i felt the obviousness of my false self. i wonder if she noticed.

probably.

but the thing is: i was trying. perhaps too hard. i must admit, the only thing i felt afterward (soon followed by thankfulness) was exhaustion. i felt as if i just completed a full day at work. my voice was tired. my head was pounding. and my heart sunk as i recognized how pathetically i relied on a shell of myself for five hours. my fatigue was not a suprise, considering this.

i believe, am i really saying this?, that something good can come of this. that friendship can blossom. that restoration can happen. now, the only catch is that she respect everything we discussed prior to this hopeful prospect. but, assuming she will, not much more can go wrong. i suppose the other catch (yes, there are two) is that i put forth my real self, my full unapologetic self. even if a deep level of intimacy is never reached, i still want to do this, must do this.

for strangers.

for friends.

for family.

for acqaintences.

so that i can be a true, consistent presence in the lives of others.

p.s. we ate lavash and hummus. this is one of my most favorite snacks. if it were up to me, my parents would purchase items like this instead of the ice cream, cookies, candies, and other preservative infused foods that line our pantry and refrigerator. when i get a place of my own and purchase my own groceries - they will be much more healthy.

finally, relief.

last night (and) this morning i wore saturated red corduroys.

i wore my mother's jewlery.

i wore a thrifted shirt.

i did a smokey brown eye.

i curled my hair, of course.

the result: feeling like a young lady.

last year was hard, no doubt. hands down it was the hardest year thus far.

but today, on the lap of the feller - after a filling lunch of homemade quiche, after conversation about God and church and life, after kisses in the warmth of the sun - i felt like a young lady with so much ahead of me. so much promise and adventure. i felt relief. finally, relief.

i'd like to believe it was those red cords (the outfit in general is banging. yes, i said banging).

but it was the relief that only a new year can bring. relief because i bore the weight of goodbyes and the inevitable separation that followed. relief because i said yes to His ways and can experience, this moment, the fruit of obedience - sometimes carried out of fervent love and other times, begrudging discipline. relief because i survived, for lack of a better word, the difficulty of last year.

today, i am welcoming the new year.

today, i am filled with gratitude that He was faithful, that He proved himself strong in my weakness, that He was compassionate and tender, even in my wandering and rebellion, and that He is

making me new.

p.s. i told the feller i didn't want to forget today. today, where our skin is young. today, where our bodies our able. today, where we are twenty-one and have one semester until graduation. it really was wonderful sitting on his lap. he sweetly reminded me that it has been over a year that we have been dating. (and it was a hard hard year). and he, then i, talked about the possibility of two years and five years and seven years and and and. there really is nothing else like sitting on his lap in conversation, in silence.

ruined for love

the holidays were wonderful in my corner of the world.

there was an easiness about them. and a fullness.

and there was joy.

i am so lucky to see those i love as frequently as i do.

and the thing is, it takes planning and excitement from both parties. ahem, from you and me. and finally (miracle of miracles!*), i have people in my life that share the same sentiments about me that i do of them. finally, i am not the only one figuring out dates and places and activities. i am surrounded by good people who desire me in their life. and instead of rejecting their love, as i have conditioned myself to do - often on assumptions that they don't really want to share food and a couch and a sidewalk with yours truly - i am accepting it. saying yes to love. and saying no to the assumption that i will, at all times, never belong. the business of choosing rightly is arduous. you see, i am suspicious of love and skeptical of people. i cannnot easily rely on the integrity of others; few people hold my confidence. this has always guided my interactions - this underlying belief that people will pull the rug from under my feet - that they will leave in hopes of greener pastures (or, in my case, in hopes of becoming acquainted with a more [insert any adjective such as sexy, funny, etc.] individual). ah, the painful sting of betrayal. it is the culprit. well, it is one at least. i have suffered the violence of half-truths and omission. and having suffered, find myself unconvinced by earnest pledges of love and friendship. all this i have dramatized and written about, spoken about, sobbed about. this is not to say that the dramatization of my pain forfeits the realness of it all. and this vivid (and sometimes, i must admit, theatrical) representation of my history with betrayal has fed all the assumptions listed above, perpetuating my wariness of all interpersonal relationships.

but i am not ruined for love.

and i will not (choosing against my natural inclinations) crucify you for the acts of others.

and because of this promise to you, i will not play detective: sniffing out nuances in your language, dusting through the commentary and stories of others, researching your whereabouts.

all of these, i have done.

all of these, i have done obsessively.

but i am through with anxiously reaching for information with the expectation that i will be disappointed in you, whoever you may be. being beguiled has filed down my faith in others, that is certain.

however,

this is changing.

because what is also certain is that being confronted with the brilliantly steadfast love and friendship of a few (and saying yes to this all) is changing me.

the holidays were good.

candy cane lane. old christmas movies. shopping. babysitting. making gifts and cards. christmas tree decorating. christmas light viewing (wow!). starbucks. gingerbread house. third annual christmas dinner. the engagement of close friends. gift exchanges. appetizer contest. san diego. twenty-six pound turkey. gift returns and store credit. mao. redbox. pizza and the office and talks into the night.

late nights. early mornings (except that one day i slept until one... pm).

friends (new and old). family. the feller.

and this life - the life i am living, my life, the only one i am responsible for - is terrifically multifaceted and colorful.

today - as i have been for the past eight or nine days - i am thankful for this life. and for the change that is happening in me.

*saying this reminds of a beautiful poem, written by antonio machado.

read it here.

yes,

i have nothing wonderful to say tonight.

but sometimes, it's good to write anyways.

i just recently (two wednesdays ago) finished my last fall semester of my undergraduate career. i participated in my last christmas concert with that particular choir. i finished my last set of required recitals. there were a lot of "lasts." and it feels good to be done with them. and to know that this time around, because of a much freer schedule and freer me i was able to fully enjoy them all. i was able to lead and be led. and help clean up. and finish all my classes extremely well (having read all my material, no skimming. not one page.).

yesterday i got a new internship at a church much different than the last. and i am so excited. i will be so much more well rounded because of this. yesterday i had warm beverages (i.e. hot chocolate because i refuse coffee) with an old friend. an old "bosom buddy," as we would joke. she is beautiful. and for so long i felt we would never be friends again if i didn't undergo the changes that i have this past year. but i did undergo those changes. and there we were, catching up. reconnecting. planning to hang out next week. yesterday i got dressed up (boots, leggings, high waisted shorts, lacey shirt, pea coat, ribbon in hair, etc.) to hang out with the feller. we had so much to talk about. to talk through. and i am glad we are able to be there for each other. to bolster one another up. to be tender and kind. to be compassionate. to allow room for frustration (with life, with God, with friends, with fears) and to allow room for hopelessness. and to exhibit, to personify hope to one another.* we meant to go to a street lit up like candy canes in one of our favorite neighborhoods and then head to my house to watch a christmas story, but the conversation was too good. as were the kisses. and the tears. and the laughter. it was all too good. however, when we were done we drove through the half lit up street (it being late and electricity bills being high) and he drove me home. and we talked in the street. under yellow light. i love him in yellow light. and then we said goodnight.

yesterday was a good day.

today was too.

unexpected staff christmas breakfast (someone got my shift covered!).

crafts and movies and coversations with alexis.

work with wonderful people and children.

yes, life is good.

i am very short on money.

transfering from my savings to my checkings kind of short on money.

but life is good.

and there is so much to be thankful for.

*i remember when this meant trying to be someone's savior. trying to fix them. trying to change them because you needed them. because you thought you would suffocate without them. i am glad to say that it doesn't mean that anymore. it comes from a free place. and it is so good.

it is hard

today it is hard not to cry.

the condnundrum

leaving a place i considered home was a formidable task.
even the consideration of leaving made me shudder.

looking back, six months back i can see that the shuddering was fear.
violent, robust.
there was this feeling that i would be the only one grieving the fallout. perhaps i would be the only one experiencing this goodbye as an eruption of reality. as a complete debacle. perhaps the chalky dust-filled air and accumulation of rubble only meant ruin for me. and for them, well, it was life as usual: people come and go and it becomes easier each time because life goes on.
there was this feeling that my absence would not be felt. i cringed at the likelihood of my replacement.* and how that meant i would soon be forgot, or worse remembered. and to be relegated to a memory felt like failure. specifically, being a memory without impact. i wondered if i had made an impact, one enough to miss.

approximately two months ago i began to get messages.
imissyou messages.
and i wrestled with the conundrum of imissyou.

what does it even mean?
that i've passed your mind like the fact that you need gas in your tank or like the test you need to study for? that i was, to quote the infamous juno macgruff, "a piece of furniture in your weird life" and you miss that old chair or coat rack? that you realized that we haven't talked in months and decided to make mention that you finally noticed?

i expect a follow up to imissyou.
because the words, though i love them - need them at times - are insufficient. it seems so imprudent to do nothing that corresponds with longing. if you miss someone, you do something about it. right? and when you say you are going to make plans, you follow up. right? and if you can't meet up because you're busy, you make it happen because you miss that person and they are worth shifting a schedule or working out a day to meet. right?

i am grieved that imissyou has become a courtesy rather than a true expression of desire.
i want to matter.
miss my smile.

miss my laugh.

miss my conversation.

miss my presence.
miss my ideas.
miss my kindness.
miss my silliness.

when you don't express that you are still there and haven't forgotten, i will assume you have moved onto bigger and better things. and that my being gone had something to with that. i need to know that you would still be there, even though we don't see each other often. or at all.

i just want you to acknowledge that i was important to you, at one point at least. that a text message, facebook comment isn't enough to satisfy the relationship. that you want relationship with me.
(this is by no means saying that i am unhappy with the ones i have here and now. in fact, there is so much more room to engage in deep relationships because [lots of changes] took place inside me and outside me).

then and there, i said hello and how are you to many but not much more. i had other concerns. what a terrible waste of opportunity. i took advantage of the four years i had to build relationships and develop into myself. and i spit on them and chose to stay. stuck. i failed to be present for people and was preoccupied with self-preservation, manipulation, control, and the desperation to be loved by a single person - nobody else mattered. perhaps that is why these imissyou messages seem so empty. i never gave people something they could miss enough to do something about it.

so when you say imissyou, i don't really know what it means.

and it makes my heart hurt because

i know

i know

i know

you won't follow up (with me at least).

*replacement is a funny thing. i know in function i can be replaced. but i refuse to believe that i can be replaced as person. the qualities of another may be similar to mine but they are not mine. i am an altogether unique being, in the sense that the combination of knowledge, experience, fears, etc. are mine alone. i am not unique in the sense that at the end of the day i am human and we are not as isolated from each other as we like to believe. the human experience is a shared one. but who i am, the person of stacey is largely unique. i suspect i've been replaced in many ways. and i see it in pictures and the way people don't talk to me anymore. didn't we hang out three days a week for four years? and i think it shocked me at first. i resented them. and sometimes, in all honesty, i wonder why i wasted time with people who don't find me valuable enough to keep talking to me, to keep hanging out with me, etc. and upon seeing [the replacement] i just kept thinking, over and over again, "get your own friends. get your own life. go. away. they. are. mine. and we would all be better off without you. take that daft smile. that flowy hair. that genuine personality. that ever-so-likable quality that has people swarming around you. and go. away. because you are living the life i wanted for so long but was too unhealthy to live. because you are making this harder than it needs to be." and that may be rude. but nobody likes to be replaced. and nobody likes to fall into the hole of comparison. and come up with a pile of reasons why they have been replaced. nobody. and even though i am convinced that the person of stacey is largely unique, wonderfully unique and special. it is hard to live that out. even after six months.

on the inside.

thanksgiving was wonderful.

it is too much to describe.

but there was

time at the park with the feller and the nephews before everyone arrived.

jungle gym. slides. swings. football.

food. glorious food.

far too much food.

ham. mashed potatoes. carrots. pea salad. turkey. rolls. potato/cheese/unfrosted flakes/sour cream goodness. many cheeses mac n' cheese with bacon. cranberry sauce. stuffing. pumpkin pie. apple pie.

an unfitting dessert contest. unfitting because thanksgiving is about savory, creamy, warm foods. not decadent, luxurious chocolate. six entries. six chocolate entries. cake. pie. cookies. you name it. an unlikely winner. but not really because as much as mikey gets down on himself for not being all that great - we all know he really is that great.

seventeen people total.

new additions. additions that surprise us all. little children. (this means coloring and toys and paint and a reminder to be playful always.)

i love my family. we are loud. we are fun. we are crazy. and they are so worth sticking around for. they are worth my investment. and the way the feller interacts with them reminds me of this. to not escape the craziness of my family by becoming so preoccupied with my own life. oh yes, they are worth my time and appreciation.

and when everything wound down it was time to leave. and share thanksgiving with the feller's family. a car ride with tension. of course. some arguing and laughter. figuring things out. which is not about being right or wrong but learning eachother. i want to learn this young man and know the details. i want him to learn me and know the details.

a fancy home. fancy plates. white, square. less food. (not that i needed more). candles, glass tables, expensive decor the little one couldn't run around. a fire place. my head being scratched. step-grandparents who live luxuriously. the feller says it comes with age - their taste, that is. the view was jaw-dropping. san diego lit up. electricity running underneath the sidewalks and streets, running into homes and stores and stoplights. feeling that same electricity on the inside - joy and belonging.

driving home. the feller drinking a rockstar as i shook my head. we talked. it is good to share life with him. and play the "guess what?" game. it is my favorite. i never want to not play it. (i love double negatives.) i fell asleep and am thankful he didn't wake me.

and at the end of the day, tired.

coming home to family still at the table and in the living room.

but too tired to hang out much longer, knowing i would be sucked into staying up until four like the rest of them.

with thanks in my heart i went upstairs and slept.

as admitted by

i wear my boyfriends clothes.
and they look better on me.*

i am so down with shopping in the men's section.
and pairing said pieces with feminine ones.


today i am thankful for...

his good taste.
his strong opinions.
his eloquent speech.
his adventurous spirit.
the times he thinks he is funny.
the times he "lets me" borrow his clothes.

*as admitted by the feller himself
(including friends, strangers, family... the list goes on.)

rich.

today was rich.

rain.

rain.

rain.

choir concert. early but rested. two services. power outage. singing, still.

almost done painted living room. mom and dad (out of the bedroom and not watching tv). mikey and carolyn. working together. painting. laughing. (yesterday was a lot like this too. it's good to feel togetherness.)

sisters acting like sisters. the oldest standing up for me. and defending me. the other, always a joy. advice. more than a sister, a friend. brother-in-law and nephew and the feller playing modern warfare three (because they can).

belated burgers for moms birthday. laughs. so much joy. she's vibrant.

mini naps because i'm tired.

the feller and i doing homework. kisses. squeezes. being silly. we are professionals at this. bugging eachother on purpose. for the fun of it. because we take it light heartedly. doing homework. and succeeding! understanding eachother. learning eachother. him being close and a part. him fitting into this crazy crazy family.

me, being thankful. thankful.

and better at not fighting for my preferences, way, and "rights."

selflessness. consideration for others.

this is what living is like.

i feel like i'm living for the first time in a long while.

it is so so good.

and

saturdays are good news.

quiet light and easy silence.

trapped

i want to move away and start fresh.

these streets are too close.

the freeway. the parks. the stores.

i feel trapped by memories.

i want a life that has no reminders.

about anything i experienced prior to this past may.

and the moments of foolishness between then and now.

i want to forget forget forget the people and places.

and the pain they brought me.

the insecurity they engrained in me.

right now i do not care for the good things anymore.

they are overshadowed by the hurt.

what good is remembering when all i see and feel and experience now is aching?

what good is remembering when it leaves me so disorientated?

i can choose to not dwell on things.

and i have been. and will continue to.

i can choose to stay away from things and sources that will remind me.

but a familiar area will always be familiar area.

yes, i want to move away, need to, desperately.

let us

this song is a deep inhalation and a relaxed exhalation.

it gives me time to breathe.

let us become more aware of Your presence.

let us experience the glory of Your goodness.

yes.

because He is here.

and sometimes i don't notice.

yes.

because He is good.

and i forget that this moment is a product of it.

let love

sometimes letting love grow means saying no to things that
prohibit
stunt
terminate
growth.

i commit myself to this.
to saying no.
as often as growth requires.
because growth isn't as bad as i used to think.

today i am eager for growth.
and am thankful for the growth that has occurred.

handle the hiccups

sometimes i absent-mindedly overcommit myself.

this is what happens when i don't check my planner with shocking regularity.

one day i will learn. but until then i will stay up late and wake up early and maybe skip a class or two to write a paper because i chose to cover a morning shift tomorrow (leaving my last minute paper writing time slot somewhere down the toilet).

when i realized this i laughed.

laughed at how often i find myself in this situation.

laughed at the impossibility of a perfectly executed planned life.

laughed at how the unplanned things usurp power and control from the planned things. as well as the security and peace we derive (or should i say, i derive) from said planned things. (why do we insist on putting so much stock into our plans?)

this is a small, insignificant occurance.

the paper will get done.

the notes from my skipped classes will be retrieved.

the timecard will be stamped at six forty-five am.

i truly have nothing to worry about.

but how i handle this unexpected interference says much about how i handle the other larger, significant ones.

i want to handle the hiccups of life well.

this laughable moment makes me so appreciate the nap i took earlier.

i knew i would need it.

i've said too much

i haven't the chance to write something well thought out right now.

but i am thrilled for the next time i do.

is it strange that i am eagerly looking forward to forming sentences and working out ideas?

i am.

life has been good lately. good talks with friends and the feller and the counselor. some with tears on my end. but i do so enjoy a good cry. i register for my last semester of college tomorrow. what? how did that all happen so fast? i have two papers to write. my school load has been heavy. felt heavy. but i have made time to watch movies periodically. to occassionaly share hummus and lavash and carve pumpkins. to have impromptu sleep overs. to eat ice cream. to talk even when i'd rather be on vocal rest. because people are important. and all the details of my schoolwork will be accomplished. simple as that.

i need not be overwhelmed. i just must do what needs to be done, without distraction.

and be. i must be as often as possible.

my life depends on it.

the quality of my life depends on it.

and in that being i must laugh and cry and cherish cherish cherish those moments.

ah, i've said too much already.

time to type well into the evening.

p.s. i'm trying to listen to music that i wouldn't naturally go looking for. but i am disciplining myself to consider what effect different genres (of all sorts) might have on my appreciation for beauty, life, creativity, and excellence.

p.s.s. i could not find any appropriate picture for this blog entry. my sincerest apologies. (hah! as if i have to apologize. ::wink::)

a handful

this weekend was wonderful.

productive and comical.

sometimes i just need people who i can be myself with.
and i am thankful to have had a handful (yes, i am learning to be thankful for the handful. ) that have allowed me to do so.
what a pleasant thing.

life delights in

yes, yes, yes.

come above the surface.

today i did not use an alarm but i chose to let my body do its thing and rest as long as it wanted. nine hours. a glorious nine hours of rest. miracle of miracles, i did not have any frustrating dreams, i did not wrestle with my sheets because of restlessness. sweet sleep. and a quiet house. the phone rings occasionally but i refuse to answer when it is only a telemarketer. everyone is at work or school. i cannot imagine who my father, my mother, my niece, my nephew, and my sister are when they are not here. when their mother or brother or aunt or sister or grandparents aren't giving them a role to slip into. we are all separate people living separate lives. but i do love when our lives intersect (sometimes chaotically).

i stretched.

my body creaks in the morning. like a rusted door hinge. like popcorn in the microwave. is it strange to say i look forward to the creaking of my body? perhaps, "look forward" is not the right phrase. perhaps, anticipate would be better? either way. it is something i can always count on. it is something i expect. the creaking of my body is business as usual.

i read.

about a whole life affected by the faithfulness of God. about confidence and hope in a Rock, in a Refuge, to which i can always go. about things i know not the measure of. and i pondered how i have relied on Him in ways i cannot articulate. and how i have relied on Him in ways that i have usually been unaware of. and i pondered how such a dependable God is deserving of praise. more and more and more.

(and at the same time)

i ate.

my mother purchased english muffins last week. i have not had these in ages. toasted and spackled with butter and strawberry jam, they were delightful. accompanied by a tall glass of milk, they were, indeed, the perfect morning snack.

i stilled myself.

after reading a quote from evelyn underhill:

"For a spiritual life is simply a life in which all that we do comes from the centre, where we are anchored in God: a life soaked through and through by a sense of His reality and claim, and self given to the great movement of His will."

the first phrase gave me reason enough to pause.

from the centre.

and i closed my eyes imagining how it could be so.

such imagining was overpowered by a scene that materialized from the blackness behind my eyes. a scene that i did not witness in real time and space but have conjured in dreams and in wake. it is a scene fabricated from a place of fear, of wanting to know what really happened those times i wasn't holding your hand. it took me a minute or so to realize how terribly off course my train of thought had gone. frustrated by my lack of concentration and unsettled by how the scene, the most offensive of fantasies could appear out of nowhere and interrupt my well-intentioned imagining.

from the centre.

what was in the center was flowing out.

the fear and realization of betrayal has burrowed itself deep.

and for that brief moment of stillness there was an opportunity for it to, gasping for breath, come above the surface.

lord, in those still moments draw from me the most brilliant and hideous thoughts, emotions, dreams. as i give them chance to come up for air, take take take what is harmful to my soul (transform it - if it is possible - into light) and nurture what is good.

one that i hold dear.

my list of "almost published posts" (aka drafts) are accumulating on this thing.
some are not worth finishing, emaciated ideas left wanting. ravenous for substance. uninterested in superfluous language - an amateurs guise alleging they have something with body to say.
many were impulsive. times have been hard and writing is helpful. but those posts, full of swift judgments and inundating uncertainty, can be buried by the passing of time.

the latter suggest, as can be proven on multiple accounts, that i am quickly and deeply agitated by small disturbances. granted, these disturbances, usually in the form of memories, are linked to occasions that required much of me. much that i initially declined. after time and mistakes (oh, how time supplies ample opportunity to ruminate and wander in thought then action.) staving off the summoning of change and the proposition for a different life took their toll. i consented to both. glady, i should add. this is not to say i don't have hard days. i am glad for my decisions. they were precisely what i needed to do.

my temperament, my inclination towards behaving in certain ways, reacts with hesitancy and hostility towards change. usually seen as optimistic, i realize this is only concerning others. when something disrupts my day, my plans, my wants, my needs, my life i am undone. ask those who know me best. i am working to remedy this. (with help, of course.)

so here is a reflection on this, one that i hold dear.
it is an image and idea i touched the day i was caught in a lie.
one of a string of lies. truth, this is something i am working on as well.
but honesty is hard.
i digress.

the reflection:

there is a monster without footprints or perceivable expressions. flighty and rash. a monster, i say! he pays little regard to the order, the precise-ness of things. he is skinny, no!, he is a contortionist, squeezing effortlessly through the knitting in your sweater. he is fat, no!, he has a bumbling frame, tearing off roof shingles in one fell swoop. his whistle is chilling. his roar will swallow you. he is not always so monstrous (i concede, he can be kind. gentle, even.), but the unfortunate truth is: he is marred with animosity.

humble winged creatures tied to mildly strong branches

quiver, quiver, quiver.

he has come. is coming. will come.

they flutter. they quake. bellies exposed and backs breaking.

light and fragile creatures: representatives of the ephemeral and ambassadors of life, change, and death. follow the courage in their veins to thick and thicker and thickest limbs, to thin and thinner and thinnest fingers. fingers with a steady hold. underground and unaffected by the tremoring above.

the mass of it's body may be swayed but it shan't be moved.

...

i want to be like this tree.

simply like this tree.

grounded. rooted. established.

i see frenzied movement at the leaves but the whole is unbent by every gust and blow.

yes, i want to be like this.

grounded. rooted. established.

luxurious

i want a pillow from here.

my wish list is growing.

( brown eyeliner, 4-color palette of eyeshadows, boots, etc.)

and at the same time i am learning that

i do not need more.

what i have is enough.

let's be real,

more than enough.

feeling warm water on my bare back

every morning

is

luxurious.

today i am thankful for the things that won't always be there.

the things i take for granted.

like this computer.

like a bed.

like a toothbrush.

like socks.

uneasy about abandonment.

it's like a child, sweet but lonely, with salt rivers on the inside.

it's like a child postured territorially around her play things.

oh, and her family too.

oh, and her friends as well.

it's like a child uneasy about abandonment.

it's like a child grabbing and clinging,

all the time seized by, governed by the repetitious stubborn refrain:

mine, mine, mine.

if another child makes advances they will be met by a break in the dam.

let the rivers flow.

it's like a child who, after protecting her possessions from the sticky fingers and passing glances of other children (yes, even glances!), finds out they are not hers to begin with.

and finds that she has been a recepient of great gifts.

ah, but the refrain still murmurs beneath her thankfulness at times.

it's like a child who fights the murmuring and chooses gratitude that does not grab or cling, but holds loosely.

critical, potetent, fertile

"After nearly two years, I had absolutely nothing tangible to show for two whole years of my life.....I wanted my new life to start yesterday. So why was it taking so long?.....Have I mentioned that I'm really bad at waiting? I wanted to fast forward through the whole process and find out where I was going to BE. Which means (you guessed it), I was definitely not living in the moment.....I've since realized that those two years were critical, potent, fertile years of development, during which I planted all the seeds that are now blossoming.
I now call those two years my Waiting and Becoming years."

dr. lissa rankin

stolen from this lady.

sadly,

today feels like a friday.

sadly, it is a tuesday.

right now i lift my proverbial glass to the assignments, exams, essays pressing on all sides and to the moments amid and among busyness where i meet the familiar bursting eyes of companions.

yes, i am that girl on the freeway.

my ipod is headed to its deathbed.

and can only be used when plugged in.

and my course of action is most definitely turning on the radio.

even though i cannot stand interjections from radio hosts or commercials.

(although sometimes i opt for silence.)

sidenote: i love dance music.

i may not go clubbing but i love to move around.

purpose of this post: i love this song.

whenever it comes on i smile.

and sing along.

and try and do that ridiculous run in the middle of the song.

and whether or not i can do it, i keep singing.

loudly.

and i keep dancing in my seat.

unashamedly.

yes, i am that girl on the freeway.

this song may not be musically intricate.

david guetta and usher may have accomplished no creative feat.

but it sure is catchy.

and that's enough sometimes.

so please turn your speakers up and join with me in my love for

fun, simple, listener-friendly music.

celebrate

after a long week i was able to celebrate life in all of it's ordinariness this weekend with my family, with friends, with the feller. i was able to appreciate the moments that are quite different from routine because of new life stages or anniversaries.

i celebrated working with children with a friend.

tag. four corners. coloring. popcorn. loud children. know-it-all children.

i celebrated an almost-bride.

sweet and bitter, young and old ladies present. people from everywhere together for a lady of simplicity and faith. languages: asl. spanish. english. laughter. panties. cupcake contests. decor that will make you salivate. mom stealing my lipstick.

(for the second time this week) i celebrated the one year mark with the feller.

food, always. orange circle, always. faces in yellow light. the original bowtie. lots of kisses. round two? remembering the year. how things began and almost ended. being so thankful for the way things have turned out. enjoying him for him.

i celebrated Christ our Redeemer, our Living Hope.

dancing. jumping. singing even though my voice is tired. truth. reminded of His power sans the kooky, weird, sensationalist tricks. (even though sometimes His power working in our lives looks strange.) reminded that i need only be myself walking in that power. silly pastors. really silly pastors. free lunch. mexican food. tv. naptime with the feller and friends. homework. and now taking a break from homework to recount and take stock of the many things i have to be thankful for.

i have so many reasons to celebrate Him.

He is so good.

cheers

today is our one year.

perhaps this would be a better picture.

so cheers to this feller.

to his character.

to his patience.

to his intelligence.

to his humour.

to his talents.

to his kindness.

to his strangeness.

to his good looks.

to his facial hair.

to his vulnerability.

to his dreams.

to his faithfulness.

and cheers to us.

to working through it all.

thank you, dear.

to the easiness we have right now.

to the difficulties we have right now.

and to the hope we have for many tomorrows.

i am so fortunate to do this with him.

i am so proud to partner with him.

all is muddy water sometimes.

and if everything to this point has been about me, how disheartening.

what does it to mean to give up my life?

not loving it so much that i lose it. not clinging. not trying to preserve myself and what i want and what i want others to think of me. offering it up. giving it up. living sacrifice. painful. suffering. testing. costly.

whoever loses his life for my sake will lose it,

and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

matthew 10:39

new international version

if your first concern is to look after yourself, you'll never find youreslf.

but if you forget about youreslf and look to me,

you'll find both yourself and me.

matthew 10:39

the message

i am receiving my life back.

i am being trusted with my life.

but this opportunity offers up cumbersome questions and formidable tasks.

i, on most accounts, have been so paralyzed and chained by the fear of things not turning out how i planned, of not getting precisely what i want, of letting others down. fear has kept me from saying yes to freedom for so long. anxious to preserve the temporal. the comfort, the security. not trusting God to come through, to provide or satisfy me. not trusting His generous love for me and His good thoughts towards me.

i am receiving my life back.

little by little.

and motives for every interaction with you and yours and them and theirs are surfacing. all is muddy water sometimes. but i know, am assured, am completely convinced that He is faithful to finish the good work He has begun in me. and i will submit to the process He deems best to accomplish this. even though it is scary to think of the many options that i can be made more His, more myself.

now i am just talking.

rambling.

forgive me, because i could go on.

p.s. this isn't perfectly said, i know. but i am forsaking the lure of polished language because i am not all that refined, flawless, or excellent right now.

even if

sometimes fear persuades me otherwise.

but not today.

i have resolved to live truthfully.

to live exposed.

even if i feel just that.

(naked, without covering)

even if i have done a destestable job thus far.

today i know that i can choose other than

what is easy or what i am used to.

and today i will do just that.

p.s. sometimes other people say it better than i ever could.

if we will only

i need to be reminded that love can be at the center of all things,

if we will only keep it there.

-kathleen norris

courage

story of my life right now.

so easy

today i woke up at four-thirty am.

went to the gym.

opened at work. (called in).

and am about write a paper.

it has been a brilliant morning thus far.

today i will have a test.

a fitting for my choir dress.

my second counseling appointment.

attempt to accomplish homework.

and class later.

the tears came easy last night.

they always come so easy.

throwing it out

i feel guilty being in the library and reading/writing blogs.
i also feel guilty about being on facebook while in the library.
ergo to avoid this guilty feeling i will most resolutely get dinner.

and i will write more about this later,
but filling myself with beautiful words and pictures is good for my soul.

and i still would like to become a master of water colors.
just throwing it out there.

more here.

goodbye

this is beautifully written.

the kind of stuff movies are made of.

decisively idealized and heavily romanticized but true enough to touch upon reality.

found at dear meg's blog.

so as a discipline

every good and perfect gift comes from You.

i shall not be in want.

so as a discipline when i begin to want for and reach for:

thank You, Lord, for what i have right now,

where i find myself this hour, this day.

You are kind. You are gracious.

thank You, Lord, for Your leading and Your nearness.

Your words are life to me.

i fix my ears and eyes on You.

You are beautiful and burn with love for me.

You know what's best. You have given me what's best.

You are forming me like i asked.

You are restoring me like i asked.

and here in the breaking of an old life,

You are building in me a new one.

thank You.

agree with me.

some days beg for ingrid michaelson.

her voice is soft, inviting.

the rounds in this song remind me of childhood.

row, row, row your boat... anyone?

and i know it goes without saying but rounds are circular. each line coincides without clashing or distracting from the others. they don't ask for your attention. they show each other off. they work together. the spiral of a round and their indefinite end agree with me.

repetition is possibly my most favored rhetorical device.

i love ethereal voices and easy singing.

i love songs in triple meter. (six/eight?)

fact: i also walk in triple meter. one, two, three. one, two, three.

i know this is not the most cheerful song,

but it is catchy and i smile when the voices move to unison at the end.

p.s. i actually don't own any of her music. i use grooveshark to supply all those needs. but i am finding myself lacking sweet music in my car. (my ipod dies if it isn't plugged in). point being, i need to purchase said sweet music. or someone can give it to me.... ::wink wink::

p.s.s. i also want to learn how to watercolor.

the gain

today i am reminded of a friend who so plainly told me that i am not missing out on anything. that i haven't lost anything in this transition. i am reminded to love the life i have. to say thank you for my life and not be filled with anxiety about a life i did have or could have had but do not have.

but whatever was to my profit I now

consider loss for the sake of Christ.

What is more, I consider everything a loss

compared to the surpassing greatness of

knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,

for whose sake I have lost all things.

I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ

and be found in him, but that which is through

faith in Christ -

the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith.

I want to know Christ

and the power of his resurrection

and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings,

becoming like him in his death,

and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead.

philippians 3:7-11

today i am reminded of a joy that goes deep. a steady joy.

a quiet joy that bubbles up and over.

today i am reminded that i have to choose this joy,

even in what feels like loss.

and that joy, the gain of knowing Christ, makes me want to dance.