A Different Kind of Freedom.

The theme of my thoughts the last few weeks has been centered on the idea of freedom and potential. I've been spending a ton of time lately reflecting on my actions, both now and over the last year. In a humbling and rather raw awakening, I realized that I had very minimal personal growth between this time last summer and just a few weeks ago. I look back and I feel as though I was living in the bondage of my desires, trapped by my vision of what I wanted life to be and consumed by the frustration that my reality and my fantasy didn't align. Instead of spending time working on myself, I spent time dwelling on what wasn't, and praying for change in others when I had so much room for improvement myself. This post is in no way meant to whine about not having a good year. I had a fine year; plenty of good things happened. Rather, I am pointing out the fact that I let the last year go by without taking the time to come out of it better than when I went in. For that I apologize. To everyone who noticed, to everyone who didn't notice but was still affected by it, to everything I half-assed, and on behalf of all the opportunities I forfeited: I am sorry.

Here's the thing, though. We can't live in regret. I may have let several months slip by me, but I can't have them back so all I can do is move forward. I can't be my best yesterday, I can only be my best today. I have had several changes of heart in the last few weeks. Issues I was unaware that I was living with have surfaced, and I am working on scrubbing myself clean of them. I see the real me peaking through, and though not quite fully visible, I have the sincerest faith that I will soon shine again.

I feel free. I feel like I have finally removed the padlock from the cage that I put myself in, and I have the freedom to be happy regardless of what happens. I've been reminded that my joy is not some dependent variable in my life, determined only by the value of other people or how much they value me. And I believe that my absorption of these truths will be reflected in my actions. As of yet, I have still relapsed a few times, and found myself reacting irrationally to matters that hold little to no importance. However, I think after a weekend away from visual reminders of who I was over the last year, I might finally receive a beautiful replenishment and the opportunity for genuine change.

So here is to new beginnings!
to remembering that you are great and believing in your greatest potential.
to letting go of the past.
to letting go of (expectations for) the future.
to healing.
to self love.
and to all of the people who inspire me to be great.
And a particular shout out to the most wonderful couple I have ever met. Who welcomed me into their home the night before their anniversary, and, coincidentally, the night before one of them left the country for two weeks. Who have exemplified love in every part of their lives. Who bought me sushi, blew up an air mattress for me, and provided me a weekend away when I needed it most. To two of the greatest people I know, Andrew and Sarah Beard, happy anniversary and thank you for teaching us what it is to love by loving each other. Also, thanks for the gummy worms on my bed.

Our lives are art.

I haven't posted in several months, but it isn't for lack of writing. I have been starting all kinds of stories and poems, and just free writing, but I can't seem to finish any of it. It's not to be attributed to writer's block, or a lack of inspiration. I think the problem is my distraction-ridden mind trying to make art of everything I do and see. The problem with that is that it already is. Our lives are art. What we do, how we do it, who we see and what we say. Some people speak in an eloquent poetry of their own, and others a special kind of prose, but all of it is art. Our lives are paintings and songs, novels and movies, all of which are unfinished. Not every day can be Mona Lisa's smile. Some days are nothing more than shading in the back drop. But that is life. Not every day is as beautiful as the last or the next, but they all work together to create this grand masterpiece that is your life. I've been thinking a lot lately about how we are created in God's image.  -So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.- Genesis 1:27. The first line in one of the poems I'm writing reads: "If we're made in God's image, aren't we born to be great?" Who are we to put ourselves down? To not appreciate what works of art we are is, in a way, insulting to the artist. I just want everyone to love themselves. That is my hope: for everyone to love themselves, and in turn love their neighbor as themselves. Love God and love others, yes. But you can't forget to love yourself among those things. You are great, and your life is art. Make it beautiful.

Vincent.

Today I met a man named Vincent. I passed him without eye contact on my way into the Barnes & Noble on the plaza, but I knew I would talk to him on my way out. I think the majority of conversations between the homeless and the "homed" happen on the wrong end of spending. Everyone waits until they have made all of their purchases and can just get rid of their change. On the way in they "don't have anything to give," which really means they have much more than they're willing to give but they haven't broken it into smaller bills yet. I think also we avoid making eye contact on the way in for fear that it will birth expectations for the way out, or perhaps we feel awkward having two conversations with someone so we just wait. Or we simply ignore them all together. I have been guilty of committing each of these.

But today I met Vincent, and Vincent isn't actually homeless. I handed him my two dollars and offered him my two cents that he spend it on something good. He looked at me and said "now see, I'm a married man. I've got three kids and a place to live, but right now I find myself unemployed." He explained that he stood in that spot and collected money so he could feed his family.

He said "I've decided to ask for help instead of going and committing a crime so my family can eat." And I was overwhelmed by his humble honesty. Now, you cynical cynics out there may wag your finger at me and call me foolish for believing his story. But you did not shake this man's hand or see that his eyes held no trace of deceit.

Lately, I feel like everybody in my life has been telling everyone else not to have too much pride. I've always had a hard time understanding what it means to be prideful and how it's different than being proud. I think the words are actually synonymous, but in the right context they create a dichotomy that was always just beyond my comprehension. When we're little, everyone says "be proud of who you are." Our parents tell us how proud they are of us. We're encouraged to take pride in our school, our accomplishments, our heritage, and ourselves. And that all makes sense. As I got older I noticed that word, 'pride,' popping up among lists of sins and other flaws that people commonly carry with them, and I got confused.

I have this friend who has helped me understand what it means to have too much pride, and why it can be bad. He is one of my very best friends, but he rarely lets people help him, myself included. I will say to him, "Friend. You are going to be studying all night and I have studied that subject before. Let me help you" and he will not ask for my help. And I will say "Friend. You are cleaning your room while I sit here and watch. Let me help you." But still he doesn't ask. He will sling several heavy objects on his back, and only when I physically remove one will he allow me to carry something for him. This is not all the time, and it has even become a joke. I will ask him a question, and his polite declination is followed by "I have too much pride" with a wide smile.

I have this other friend who is sometimes bad at letting people in. She loves others with her huge and beautiful heart, but she can be blind to the abundant love people have for her. She is tough; she is one of the strongest people I know, and she does not like to be vulnerable. There has been devastation in her life and I hope she will forgive me for shedding light on that fact. She hates when people describe her past as hard, or say that so many things have "happened to her," but the truth is that she has faced tragedy in a more genuine form than most people in her life and certainly more than I have.

I've noticed that both of these individuals are slow to accept things given to them, even if it is simply a chicken sandwich or a cup of icecream. The reason I started sensing their pride was because I have this third friend and she is one of the ones who often says "you have too much pride." And she says it to them, and I believe her because she is one of the wisest people I know, and also because she says is it with the love that the rest of her words are also flavored with. She changed both of these people whom I love so much, and she changed me, and she is changing the world, and I miss her.

These three people helped me understand pride, and Vincent helped me understand humility.

Before I walked back to my car I put my hand on his shoulder and I said to him, "the Lord loves you very much and I want you to know that." He looked back at me and said "yes, He sure does. And you know that the Lord can do everything except one thing. Do you want to know what that one thing is?" And I said that I did.

"Fail. The Lord cannot fail." and I said "amen."

Driving.

I've been thinking a lot about how life is like driving. I don't want to get all cliche here. I mean, I'm well aware that I am not the first person to make this analogy, and there are a lot of different ways I could go with this. There is the "Jesus, take the wheel" approach. I could talk about speed limits and traffic lights and stop signs and other things that slow us down. Or I could make some metaphor to cruise control or something. But I think I'm going to go the whole "life is a highway" route. Sort of.

Bear with me, this is going to get better.

I've been doing a lot of driving these past few weeks and it's got me thinking. Some people think of our lives like a book and every time they move or get dumped it starts a "new chapter." I'm not knocking that way of looking at life, but lately I've been thinking about life in terms of exits. Instead of town names or highway numbers, the signs would list the major events in our lives like graduating high school and college and getting married and finding a job or taking over the world or becoming president or whatever it is we do with our lives.

Sometimes when we're driving we're keeping an eye out for our exit because we know when to look for it. Like how around mile 17 or 18 we start looking for the exit that has "high school graduation/college enrollment" in big white letters and next to it will be a sign that says 'attractions' and there are a bunch of little square pictures that symbolize partying and sleeping in and freedom and skipping class. Then around miles 22-25 we start hoping that we'll see an exit for marriage and by the time we get to mile 30 and still haven't found it we figure we must be lost.

And then there are times when we see the exit we want to take, but for some reason there is a road block. Even though there are signs for a detour we know that that's going to take a bunch of extra time and work and gas and we're just not really sure it's worth it. So we settle for a different route.

Then inevitably there will be times when we reach a fork in the road. Maybe it will be clear that we are supposed to "keep right" or make a "slight left" and we will just continue the way we were going, but other times we'll have to make a real choice and we might not always make the right one. Then whenever we've made our decision and realize it's not the one we should have made, we have to find a way to get back on track.

Unfortunately there are going to be times when we find ourselves in territory we would never have imagined ourselves venturing to, but we're so out of fuel that we have to take that exit because we just can't stay on the road we're on any longer. That exit might say divorce or unemployment or relocating or something else that will change every aspect of our lives in the scariest way.

Or sometimes there will truly be nothing we could have done, but somehow we've taken this sharp turn and ended up in the land of sickness and death and funerals and tragedy and we never even saw it coming. And it feels like we will never be able to escape that place of grief and return to life as we knew it before.

Regardless of which of these categories we fall into at the moment, and we will all experience each of them at some point, it is important not to lose sight of our surroundings. It's easy to fall into the trap of focusing on what's ahead instead of enjoying the scenery around us. If the only thing we're truly opening our eyes to is when the next big thing is going to happen in our life, we're going to miss all the beautiful little things that we will pass on the way. It's great to look forward to those truly exciting events of life, but if we pass away the drive by counting down the mile markers until the next exit, what fun is that?

Roll down the windows and let the breeze remind you that life is refreshing. Look around you and appreciate the beauty of life's scenery. Turn up your music and sing along as loudly as possible. Dance even. Play the steering wheel like a drum even though you don't know how to play the drums. Stick your foot out the window. Go nuts and enjoy your drive.

Taking off your watch.

Today I cannot stop thinking about how ungrateful we have become.

I got up extra early today so as to give myself enough time to look especially fly for my trip to Springfield tonight. (I don't know if you know this, but Springfield sort of expects all of its visitors to come looking sexy.) I have class at 9:00 in the AM, so I got up at 7:30. As I was damaging my blonde locks by way of heat, I realized I had probably given myself too much time to get ready. My first reaction was "well shoot, I could have slept longer." As soon as I let myself think that I realized that, if anything, I should be happy that I will have a few extra minutes to eat breakfast or just relax.

I got to school only to find out that my teacher wasn't going to be able to make it. Again, the initial response that ensued was one of frustration. I almost failed to recognize that I was complaining about a blessing. All of a sudden I had an extra hour of my day to do whatever I wanted.

So, I spent the next two hours catching up on homework and reflecting on the very things about which I am typing. I go to my 11:00 class to, once again, be informed that class isn't happening today.

In other words I have been awake for 4 hours for nothing, right? SO wrong. This is a problem we have today. We're always talking about wasted time. Somehow we've gotten into this mindset that if we're not doing something then we are wasting time. Even if we are doing something, in order to really make our time "worth it" we have to be doing something else too, we're the generation of multi-taskers. We can always be doing more and more to reach these goals we have. It's always about getting something done. What happened to just enjoying life in the present? If we take a few minutes to stand outside or just take a few breaths, we're accused of not using our time wisely and waiting in line is this huge inconvenience that gets in the way of doing important things.

Well I say sometimes doing nothing is important. I say life is not about managing your time just right so that at the end of your life you can have perfected a list of skills and climbed higher than a list of people and been awarded a list of titles and positions that really just meant you were getting paid more to be home less. I say we should think less about where we're trying to go, and focus on how we're getting there. I say that we should see waiting in line as an opportunity to be alone with our thoughts, or prayers, or day dreams. I say that we should relish in canceled meetings and extra time in the morning to praise God for the breath in our lungs and the pillow under our heads. I say we should stop caring so much about these tight schedules that lock us down and realize that every minute is a blessing.

This life is a gift for which we should be grateful. The weddings and graduations and promotions are gifts, but so are the car trips and elevator rides and the five minutes early that you got off work. How rude is it to write off some of these gifts as a waste? There will inevitably be times in our lives when we are forced to do things that seem trivial and lacking any conceivable merit, but it is still on us to decide if that time is wasted. Find some reason to make every day count for something. Walk away from everything feeling like it was worth something.

What's the point in coming out of something exactly as you went in? Let things change you for the better. Learn something new. Give everything a reason to be remembered.

As for me, I am grateful for these few hours to be able to manifest my thoughts for the first time in weeks and create something. I hope you have an exceptional weekend, whoever you are.

Being a tree.

I haven't really been able to think of something terrific to write about, or whenever I do find something I want to say I struggle to say it right. So, until this little blip of writer's block goes away, I will just share with you a few completely silly poems I wrote earlier this year. I was going back through my journal and found them, so I figured I might as well share these in the mean time. Enjoy!

Aren't you glad you're not a tree?
Although you'd live, and grow, and breathe.
You'd change, and blossom, then parts of you'd die.
People would cut you, and you wouldn't know why.
There are trees that feed
         and trees that weep.
Trees from which people learn to leap.
There are trees that are only for people to climb.
And ones that are judged a big waste of time.
Many trees do nothing but stand and make shade.
Others live on through the pages they've made.
The thing that makes people different than trees,
Is that they have no legs and they have no knees.
Trees can flourish and trees can sway,
But a tree can never walk away.


My thoughts on the rainbow:

I think that yellow is the happiest color.
Green has alterior motives.
Blue can be boring or beautifully brilliant.
Purple is for girls who dream of Prince Charming.
Pink is just misunderstood.
So is black.
Brown got the short end of the stick.
Red is like saying 'I love you' at the wrong time.
And orange has no secrets.

Boogers.

As human beings we have a natural tendency to want to be in control. We like to see what we're facing and be able to choose what happens with our lives. If even for a moment we are unable to see at least a portion of the road ahead of us, we go ballistic.

I remember the first time I sneezed while learning how to drive. I thought I was going to die, I really did. All of a sudden, while trying to master this terrifying skill of driving- putting myself and everyone else on the road at risk at all times- I was forced to close my eyes. No longer could I be sure I was staying in the right lane. I had no way of knowing if the car in front of me had abruptly stopped. What if I just ran a red light? I would have no clue. It's a temporary yet dreadfully scary loss of control- not to mention you are now inevitably covered in boogers. When sneezes attack, for 10 to 30 seconds (or 15 minutes if you are my grandma or Alexis Martin) we are forced to blindly grip the wheel and hope that it all turns out okay.

For some reason, nearly everyone speaks about events in their future as if they are clairvoyant: "in May we're going to Cabo," or "next summer I'm getting married" (note- these are two random examples, neither of which apply to me). How very presumptuous of us to think that we can ever know what will happen to us. Life is full of sneezes. Sometimes we feel them coming, and other times we are totally caught off guard. No matter what we think we see down the road, the truth is that at any moment we could be left gripping the wheel that guides our life with eyes tight shut, praying that we don't get in a wreck.

The mission of this post is not at all to spread propaganda for pessimism, rather to plea for a little flexibility. It's okay to believe in dreams and plans that we want to happen, but at the end of the day it is imperative to realize that not everything will go the way we've imagined it will. It's impossible to avoid the unpredictable anyway, why not invite some spontaneity to your existence? If your life is already full of surprises and lacking in routine, it won't seem so scary when life throws you a curve ball. Don't get hung up on the elaborately illustrated future you've painted for yourself and enjoy today!