Who Makes the Cut?

Mostly I think about people.

I am a people person. I am an extrovert. I get depressed if I spend too much time alone. I think I even cope, by thinking about people. I think about interactions. I think about personalities. I think about memories: moments, laughs, fights, developments. I'm fascinated by people. Interpersonal relationships. They're wonderful and terrible; perfect and completely messy. They're impossible to turn into facts and figures, yet we constantly try. Every person-to-person interaction is different, though they may appear similar. A relationship may seem like it's one you'd never not have, and the next thing you know you're mutually letting go. It's irreparable.

I've been thinking about this lately; I've had a lot of time to myself lately, and so I've been doing a lot of thinking. You could probably guess that I've been thinking about people. (If I'd had more interest in studying and had been more sure of myself, I probably should've majored in psychology.) There are a handful of reasons I have so much time alone lately, one of them is arguably of my own doing. And I've been thinking about it. This is why I don't like being alone, - too much time spent thinking.

I've never been great at standing up for myself. It's always felt like an impertinence. Whether that's personality or growing up as the youngest of six, I don't know, but I still don't really like it. There have been a couple people from whom I've either cut myself off completely, or just strongly backed away, in efforts to protect myself. In my...solitude, for lack of another synonym with more accurate connotation, I've been thinking about this. And I know, by some I've been thought less of because of it. So the question has been haunting me as to whether this is an acceptable practice.

I mean, do we really have to like everybody?

I tend to try not to let someone know if I don't like them; no need to be rude about it, but I'm also not going to give my time to someone who is going to waste it and trample me in the process. My time alone has had me pondering those choices; questioning the existence of a balance. Is there a balance of tolerating the seemingly intolerable because it is the nicer thing to do, and walking away because your heart can't take it anymore? The tolerant, nice side of me keeps coming to the surface with this question, - this doubt rather, that there's never a time to walk away. That walking away is weak.

I think the only glaring difference is walking away without clarity; without answers. I think that's the reason I have trouble feeling okay about those decisions, is because I never had closure. I only hit my breaking point. I found the place where I didn't know what else to do and had to let go without explanation. The other is free to go, not knowing why it was worth it for me to quit.

My sister was telling me, a speaker named Graham Cooke refers to some people as "Grace Growers". I couldn't help but think about that: what if those were my grace growers? Is it possible that I ran out? Just in those moments, and those times, - those relationships, and those people were the unfortunate victims of me not having enough to give them?

All this to say, I've been on the receiving end of The Cut before, and admittedly, I've made the decision myself as well. If ever I come to this again, I hope I'll make the decision with different eyes. I can't say I won't do it again, because sometimes a relationship feels fatal, but I do hope I can avoid this as much as possible in life.

Hold on to the ones that stretch capacity for love and ability to apply grace.

Beginning a New Journal: Sept 8, 2012

I love this journal so much I didn't even want to break the binding. It's lovely, and I wanted to begin it with something lovely, but those kinds of words are a little for me to come by these days.

I'm at Logan Park, it's a beautiful evening; it was a beautiful day. It didn't even feel like it. Hence I took to my bike, journal in tow. I wanted to go somewhere beautiful, somewhere that didn't make me hate life...if only for a minute. It didn't feel like a beautiful day.

I spend all day inside, at the wrong temperature, just looking at a taunting outdoors. I think about what I'll do when I get off work, but inevitably I'm too beat to chase the adventure my heart craves and then invents.

I'm listening, now, to the dwindling remnant sounds of children in the park at twilight. a couple walking their dog pass me a second time. It's a beautiful evening, though the breeze has my every hair on end and my body on the verge of shivers. I welcome it. It's been a hot, humid summer, though not even one of our worst.

And though it's dark out, I wish someone would come and talk with me. Lately, I've had the longing for the spark of new relationship. A chance to meet someone new, and investigate them. Try them on; feel them out. If I like it, lay ground rules: no taking advantage of me, no lying, no walking away, no secrets, no assumptions or presumptions, no holding back - tears or laughter -, no letting go when it's convenient. Be present, be invested.

Instead, I sit, on the bench, looking out over an ever-darkening field, the clouds in the distance occasionally shimmering, alone. Only thinking that if I met someone who'd let me set the rules, and also hold me to them...it would be perfect. If only there were such a thing, as someone I could trust; someone who would treat me like I deserve, and love me, that would be perfect. Ideal. Ideal.

The wind washes over me, playing with the whispies in my hair. This is the closest I think I ever feel to love. That's why I come here and sit, alone. I can pretend that even though I don't speak, the wind hears my thoughts and cherishes these musings. I can come and feel like beauty loves me back. Its touches, looks, and hushes tell me. And we're together, without care.

Beauty loves me back.

The Now

Fall always gets me. I begin to love life again. Summer is great for some things it offers, but fall will always snag my heart.

I had a bit of a rough patch the past week or so. It's like when the you-know-what hits, it HITS. But I had this realization that it's a snare. It's a snare. I could be dragged down, and I could make the same choices as all the rest, but the point is to have discernment and trust, and a happiness that confounds people. How when life is what it is, can you still find joy?

It's not just a change of the weather, it's not just that last week was bad and this week is better. Last week, a lot of bad crap went down, but this week my life is still in the wake of that. This week I'm choosing to walk in an attitude of grace, joy, and expectancy. I went to work yesterday, and for some random reason I just had a great day at work. Great! I haven't had a great day at work in, God knows how long!

And I miss that. I miss the times in my life when I was good at taking each day as it comes, and not constantly wondering about when I'm going to get to something better. What's wrong with right now? What is meant for right now?

There's always something to be done; to be achieved or enjoyed. I hate to be so era-specific, but I kind of like "YOLO". I mean, let's be real, that existed before it became a stupid, over-used acronym. None the less, it's something that we should think about more. Why be a jerk to your waitress (or barista), when you could be nice? Why hoard things, when you could give them away? Why be in a bad mood, when you could brighten someone's day? Why worry, when you have no control anyway?

I've been especially irked lately by the hypocrisy of christians. Myself included. Man, I can be such a hypocrite. A variety of ways. One of them is being so discontent with my life, when I should be enjoying it all the time...yolo. But seriously.

I guess discontentment isn't limited to mis-focused Christians. Everyone gets it. In general, I've been trying to focus on (I promise so far I kind of suck at it) putting other people first - which is so the opposite of how people think these days! Wouldn't it just be interesting? Interesting that someone would say, even though I'm tired and feel like a royal sack of crap, I will smile at you when I hand you your coffee and genuinely wish you a great day. Part of the tough thing is people don't notice as much as you want them to; the doormat effect.

So this has been and will be my challenge to myself. The challenge to totally enjoy life. As much as humanly possible.

I'm sentimental and pensive, so the change of seasons makes me think about how I could change. Cliche, yes. Effective? Maybe. Try it, you might like it.

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.