after a while.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Now might be a dangerous time to write. Perhaps a risky time as well. I've never had second-thoughts about writing a blog post, but this has toyed with my mind far too much this week.

Writing is dangerous now for a variety of reasons. 1) I have homework I could be doing. And I don't really feel motivated to do it. Which is odd for me. 2) I'm kind of angry. And disappointed. It's never good to write when you are feeling those things. Because you say stuff you might mean in the moment, and then regret when other people take it in a way you didn't intend. There's always a risk that comes when you don't say what you are going to do right away. We talked about that in rhetoric earlier this week. I guess I'm still learning.

When I moved back to Westmont at the beginning of this semester, I found a poem on tumblr that caught my eye. It made me stop, read it, blink a couple times, and read it again. Something stuck with me, something made sense, something told me that I shouldn't let that go. So I tore a piece of paper out of my brand new notebooks, grabbed my felt tip pen and begin to copy it down. I tore little pieces of tape, and put it up on my wall, right next to my bulletin board, right next to my line of vision at my desk. I read it everyday, I love the way the words line up together, the sentences they form, the meaning they represent. I knew it was a good decision to put it on my wall. And now I know why.

There is so much about this that we all can resonate with, whether we have been exactly where the author has been or not. Everyone needs a reminder that they are strong and they can endure, and that they have worth, despite how they feel on any given day. You learn that through a lot of good things, and mostly a lot of bad things. With every good bye you learn. I could get rich off of being paid a dime for every time I, or anyone for that matter, said "I wish I knew then what I know now." And I hate that it's the bad things that make us learn, that make us better people, that pain is one of the most shaping emotions in this universe, that goodbyes teach us more than we could every know. I hate a lot of stuff right now, and I guess that means I'm learning.

I'm being vague  I'm avoiding the obvious words I could write. I'm not going to write them, so you can stop now if you are tired of it. I could really care less. I know I write and I post my thoughts on a public web site, but I write because it's how I process. It just so happens that people sometimes resonate with it, connect to it, even though I don't say outright what I'm going through. That's the beauty of it. I don't have to spill my guts all over a web page, I don't have to dump out the contents of my soul onto a post to get people to understand. They already do.

I have a wonderful family of friends at Westmont. When one of us is falling, struggling, we don't reach down and pull them out. We don't throw out a lifesaver and reel them in. No, we meet them down, in the guck. We go to where they are, we sit with them, we let them cry into our shoulder, we let them be in the space they are in. And when the tears have been shed, the words said, the hope realized, we walk with them out of that space. We aren't fixers-of-issues, but we love each other, and we're there for each other. I'm in the guck. I'm in that space. But I'm not alone, and it is such a bittersweet experience to be feeling down, but feeling so loved at the same time. I wish I had better words to describe it to you. But I don't, and that might just be a result of still being in the guck. 

Life carries on.

My homework assignments keep me busy, doors are opening to take me somewhere new, and I think the idea of fresh start is looking more and more appealing with every morning. The disappointment is giving way to excitement for my near-future. The regret over words I never said is fading as distance grows. The anger is giving way to appreciation, the sadness to new hope. My life is moving forward. I am moving forward. I never thought I would be affected so much by the recent happenings in my life. I assumed I would be able to handle it, receive it, accept it. But it's hard. 

Crying is a weird thing. I wonder what God was thinking, when he decided to fashion humans in a way, that when emotions become too much to handle, water seeps out of our eyes, and liquid drips down from our nostrils. And the funny thing is that afterwards, that you really begin to feel again.  Anyone who's been there knows what I'm talking about. After the tears stop but your face is still wet. After you wipe your nose, and blink your eyes. When the sobs are reduced to slow breathing, and your heartbeat begins to slow. When you begin to feel okay again. When things begin to be put into perspective. Something about letting go, letting it rush out of your eyes, and unfortunately also your nose, makes you feel empty. Released. Okay. I am okay. I can go forward. It's hard. But it is in those hard things that you learn. And I am learning.

I'm ready to stop holding hands and trying to chain souls. I'm ready to hold my head up, and keep my eyes ahead. I'm ready to meet it with the grace of a women. I'm ready to build my roads on today. I'm ready to let tomorrow stay uncertain. I'm ready to plant my own garden. I'm ready to decorate my own soul. And I am enduring. And I am strong. 

And I am learning.

God, I am learning so, so, much. 

Respectfully submitted,