Wading Into the Deep

So I sent in my Iowa Young Writers' Application. Rejection/acceptance letters mailed out April 1st. We will see....


I dropped percussion. I picked up the trombone. I'm having a better time with it than I ever expected.


I keep getting sick-ish. Not totally sick, really, but overcome with remnants. Illness remnants, we could call them. I pray for the world's Kleenex supply.


I am not running away to North Carolina, shoeless, with Thin Mints in tow, because Spring Break is in a month.

That week, my friends... that week represents everything that is good.

{And it's not so much that I would run away otherwise? ...more the principle of the thing. You know.}



I've been working on what principles mean to me. Principles and perceptions and cognitions and observations... I've wondered what to take and what to leave -- and what it would take to leave it all. I won't say I'm searching for myself. I'm finding the pieces of who I'll be. Everything I've ever wanted, everything I'll ever need, it's all wrapped up in the then, now, and later. Living well means nothing and everything, depending on the person... but who has the right to shape your life? Who could have the nerve to suggest how to fulfill responsibilities or revel in accomplishments? Rhetorical question hint of the day: it's not nobody. Maybe you leave your shoulder down to look over. Maybe your face unknowingly asks for help. No matter the case, a person yearning to share their light with a life will find a window to send it through.

The light doesn't always move from wiser to wise. Sometimes the wise aim to teach the wiser... the word 'wise' itself is open to speculation. Curious, though, are the ways light is handled. Helpful intentions matter not to those in it for themselves, or those unwilling to change. In the same way, help can be found in the peskiest of comments. This is the raging river that separates the shores of annoyance and inspiration.

Extended metaphors aside, words from another's life, whether in the form of anecdotes or advice, can be put to good use. If our hearts are hardened to insight, wisdom, or even the lack thereof, it is a choice we made. The truth is this: the search for one's self does not yield new being, and it does not end without the embracing of others' experience. I say new being is not yielded because it was always there and continues to grow. The search is not the construction -- it's the reveal. The people and influences in your life build you. It's once you're close to complete that the curtain begins to tickle your nose. The unveiling of who you've come to be, of who you hoped you'd become, of your growth and of your purpose releases everything into the world, thus mixing it with all others' growth and purpose. The search distinguishes yours from theirs. The finding harnesses the spirit and potential you always had.