Monday, December 28, 2009

It is so much easier to stand back and frame a photograph than to stand back and frame things in the bigger picture. I am not good at transitions, goodbye-for-nows, or letting go. I reach accpetance eventually (off and on) because I have to, because I know that we are both doing the right thing. But being home makes me feel cramped and trapped - like I'm in high school again. It hurts more than I thought it would, thinking about leaving the man in that photograph. It hurts even more not having the time or privacy to say the right goodbye before we both leave the country.

I am ready to leave right now, I want it for both of us. All this businness of shopping and packing makes me anxious and a little scared. The time between now and when I leave seems so long, and all too short at the same time. I am trying to find a balance between holding on to what I have here and letting go enough to be brave and just cut the ties. I want to let go, just let go and go away... but I won't believe that I'm actually going until my foot is inside that plane. Day-to-day tasks seem surreal knowing that I'm going to London so soon, and I bounce back and forth between being grateful, excited, ready... and not ready at all. Scared, frustrated, overwhelmed. And then I beat myself up for it, telling myself that I should just be grateful and excited for such an adventure. This is, after all, what I've dreamed of for years.

Dreams are complicated when they come true, though. Sometimes my relationship (going on two years soon now, oh my) feels like a dream come true. It is. But it hurts sometimes too. It's hurts to love that much. We hurt each other on accident sometimes, we can't have what we want sometimes. Part of me can see rationally and be patient; another part of me just wants to cry. I get angry when I come home because it feels like going backwards and I hate it.

And yet, things keep falling into place. I am lucky, so lucky. I have worked hard, but my open, desiring hands have not been left empty. I suppose it is better to have too much of life, rather than too little.

Friday, December 25, 2009

I Will Arise

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

-- W.B. Yeats

I suppose we are always searching for peace. I have yet to find absolute peace and contentment this Christmas. Life continues to be uncomfortable, and irritating, and overwhelming. It is also exciting and wonderful and I feel deeply the the love and abounding opportunity that is in front of me. I am happy. I do wonder if I will always chase after peace, dropping slow from the veils of the morning, just like Yeats.

Happy Christmas.

Monday, December 21, 2009

It is both very difficult, and very easy to live with people who have known you your entire life. I deal with this paradox every time I come home. It's wonderful in some ways. I slip back in with a beautiful ease, happy to be with people who have known me so intimately and so long. There's nothing like family, really. The hard part is trying to fit the parts of you that have changed and grown back into the comforting old role... It's painful and irritating because no matter what you do, things will never be like they were. You are different. They are different. My thirteen year old brother (who is now taller than I am) picked me right up off the floor when I hugged him hello.

I am looking forward to Christmas. A break is nice, although I feel like I've gone and left my brain at school.

Monday, December 14, 2009


I hate packing up my room so much. Packing to go on a trip is nice. Packing up your stuff so that you can deposit it in a storage unit for four months... not so nice.

I do not feel as emotionally overwhelmed as I have in the past. I'm looking forward to a lot of things. But the logistical difficulties of having my room in a state of chaos is so hard: wondering what should go where, and if I've covered everything, and which dishes were mine exactly? ...Uh, well, it's not fun. I am contemplating sleep so that I can do well during my final tomorrow, but the idea of sleeping in the middle of this mess is distressing to me. I am tempted to call my boyfriend for the third time today, just to have someone talk me down from my crazy-ness.

I always start listening to really angsty rock music during this time of the semester. Only the past few days have been odd because I've been switching between Bing Crosby and Weezer.

Oh I don't know what the point of this post is. I hate pointless posts too, but I don't know what else to do with myself right now. Please tell me packing makes you crazy too. Packing and finals. Urg.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Sometimes I go about in pity for myself...

And so things come to a close. The semester is winding down. The last issue of the school newspaper for this semester was published Friday, and so ends my first foray into the world of college journalism. I'd say it was successful. I am glad I have chosen to focus on writing, rather than literature. I love reading great literature, but lit theory does wear upon me after a while. Ceramics is also wrapping up. All that is left is to wait for the kilns to be fired, and unloaded. I am very excited and very sad at the same time about this. Alas, I have one more test in my history class, and there is a mountain of packing ahead of me. I will make it through these things, though.

In the meantime, other things are opening up. I have my visa (thank goodness) and my class schedule for London. I can start to see the multitude of opportunities that are unfolding in front of me, and it's very exciting. I am not afraid anymore. I was talking to a friend the other day who said to me, "I am starting to feel more and more grounded." I agree with her. I have been thinking about a quote I wrote out for myself at the beginning of the semester. For a time, I had a hard time appreciating it, but it's been true all along:

"Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, and all the while a great wind is bearing me across the sky." -Ojibwa proverb.

Difficulty and stress has made me see clearer, now that I am on the other side. I know this peace and clarity won't last, but I hold onto the startling moments of faith as long as I can.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Stand By Me

It really is nice, amidst worries about final projects and academic performance, to be reminded that you are a person outside of all those things. Today was full of worry and stress about school and deadlines. But tonight I was reminded that I am not defined by those things.

Tonight I was forcefully reminded of what it means to stick by someone. To be there with a sympathetic ear and a level head (as much as you can, anyway) ... every so often you get to see the result; the beautiful culmination of overcoming struggle and making it beautiful. That is something. It feels good to be proud, to be there in the audience thinking, "they made it!" So many people in my life have done that for me. It feels good to turn around and pass it on.

So. I am surviving. And I am so, so excited for London. Really, I can't tell you.