I Am a Tree

I am a tree

The root of which is joy

Though I’m not sure

Where I am

Is where I belong

Don’t my branches grace you

As you pass by

Or is the beauty of me lost

Among the many?

I tremble in a soothing gust

I relent: I will be here if I must.

A Man I Once Fancied

Tall lanky young and handsome

Long limbs everywhere

Great big bustling brown beard

Ending a Hiatus

I'm trying to get back on the horse. I've had a bad case of writer's block for, oh, the last three or so months. I don't really know what it is, or what to call it - which for a highly introspective person - is all the more frustrating.

I almost feel like the creative part of my brain has been in a coma after attempting to hyper function in competition with the amount of attention required for academics. I've never been a "school-person". I've never thrived in school, really. It stresses me out. I feel like there are these vague standards set by higher-minds, just waiting for me to fail. Most of my college career, at least at the U, I felt like it was all a giant test to see if I might fail. If I could brave the pressure or not knowing what the hell I was doing, but that I better do it right - then I'd earn a degree.

It's a degree of stress. I have a Bachelor's in Stress Survival.

The downside is, now I have to find a job. What the hell do I find a job in? Pardon my language. So I guess that stress degree is worth it, because now I'm just waiting. Now is a much lower level of stress. It's the kind where I'm tired of working in a dead-end job where I'm under-appreciated and hence, unmotivated.

The funny thing is, I totally over-estimated myself. I was so wrong. I said, I doubt the job search will get to me, I'm pretty content where I'm at. I can make ends meet. Then everything financially went down the drain, and I picked up hours and I got sick of my job. And started only thinking in run-ons, because: the stress.

So needless to say, I've been at a loss for words. Finding anything important to say that isn't just complaining. I don't like complaining, but over the last year I've found myself doing it more than I have before. Another thing I self-predicted and was completely wrong about: I'd never become jaded. I feel it. And I don't like it. Thankfully, I think no one notices as much as I do...typical.

On my birthday, I decided I was going to be really into it. I'm the type that likes the attention somewhat, but I don't. I get really embarrassed if a large group of people is looking at me and focusing on me, but I like to be appreciated. But I decided to just be excited to be alive. Not that 22 is old, or even really an accomplishment. Maybe a pessimist would say so, but I'm an optimist. I thought, why not just spend the day being super excited to be alive? And it was lovely.

Maybe that's my goal for the year. What would life be like for a year of just being excited for everything that comes your way? Decidedly adopting an attitude of thankfulness for the time we are given, in the very moments as they arrive and pass. It sounds so beautiful, and peaceful; it just makes me happy thinking about it.

No doubt, with the way life comes at us, it will be a challenge but what a challenge to take!

So here ends a hiatus from writing, from talking about my life. I can't say it will be all daisies and roses from me from here on out, but I'll do my darnedest to keep sharing and keep showing a good perspective on whatever life it is I'm given.

Actually Growing Up & the Dreaded "What Now?"

Adulthood is real. I always thought it was a myth; some sort of mystical plateau that I would never reach - though in reality, I know I will likely never stopping thinking bodily functions are laughable, I digress already - but I'm starting to feel it arriving. I'm starting to feel like I can say, "Kids these days". So...

I've devised a list of things that have occurred this year to lead me to believe I am actually growing up:
- survived 8 plane ride; visiting 2 new continents
- spent 6 months away from my mom (& dog)
- shared my faith when the time felt right
- read all of the Psalms
- achieved a handful of lifelong dreams (though, young yet I may be)
- swam in the ocean
- kissed a real irishman (*blush* it's kind of a great story i'll tell you sometime if you like)
- became a legal drinker
- worked on a paper days in advance
- worked on a project days in advance
- packed for moving...days in advance
- fasted sugar, cheese, & meat for 21 days
- went to bed at a decent hour (sometimes)
- actually read (some) assigned lit books
- made a chapbook (1)
- bought at least 14 bottles of wine
- walked in college graduation
- very nervously winged a toast at a good friend's wedding

I'm sure there are more things that I should/could add to the list, but these are what came to mind. Things that felt like little stepping milestones. It's starting to occur to me that I'm kind of an adult...and it's weird. At the same time as having any sort of conscious realization of such a fact psychs me out, it makes me feel like the world is my oyster!

The first thing people say when you tell them you graduated college is "Congratulations!" (you say "Thanks!"), the second is, "Now what are you going to do?" Well, if I knew the answer to that, I'd be set, but who ever does? I'm okay with that. Because the possibilities are endless. The things on the list above, most of them are things I never, ever thought I would do - even packing to move days in advance - but I did them. So "now what?" who knows! But if I have half as much fun as I did in the last year or so of my life, in the next one I am more than happy to take it as it comes.

Dubs

I know everyone says it, or thinks it; if only something had been different that day. If only I hadn't forgotten my lunch at home and gone back. If only I had stopped to get my afternoon coffee. If only I wasn't planning to see a play that night. If only the game wasn't during rush hour. If only we hadn't had that fight before I left. If only I had turned right instead of left.

That was my story. That was my shock. We drove from her house, beginning on a long journey to his soccer tournament. Blaine. We could go 35, or we could go 100. We sat. The stop sign weighed our decision silently. We aired on the side of caution, knowing its ways, and so chose 100 instead.

Favored melodies danced in our ears. Idle chatter left our lips. Laughter here and there. Me, the occasional raged-roadie ramble. Our phones rang aimlessly.

The game was canceled. The coach didn't show. "He was on the bridge." What bridge? We interrogated.

I didn't even know it was a bridge.

Metra

And quiet rumble
Of slow-moving silver bullet
Ineffectual, as it were

Quiet murmurs of tired souls

[And I am missing you
Though I don’t deserve to –
Hardly know you
In truth]

Two whisper to each other
As they brush past
This one dances a little
Then shivers

Stops.
Gives a song
And returns its half-hearted effort.
We go on.

Psalm 23: In My Words

PSALM 23

1 God is my keeper, I hunger for nothing,

2 He gives me over to rest,

He leads me to places that I may find peace,

3 He renews me at the core: He shows me the good roads to be on that lead to him.

4 I might face my darkest day or hour, but I won’t walk in fear; cause You’re with me; Your strength and wisdom are comforting to me.

5 You dare to dine with me even as my enemies linger: You tend to me; I have more than I need.

6 I can never escape Your goodness and charity; I will live with You always.

 ~For a class, we had to re-write a well-known piece into our vernacular. This isn't completely my vernacular, or at least not the ones I claimed to have in my paper, but this is in my own words.