the long way to go never shortens

I'm usually floating along on a writer's spectrum that ranges anywhere from "Why haven't I published a collection of every thought I've ever had?" to "No use adding more thoughts to the world's already overflowing sea of thoughts" to "Why would anyone, given the chance to read already acclaimed works, want to read about what I have to say?"

The other day I was disappointed to realize that a few ideas I wanted to expand disappeared in the relentless Idea Stratosphere because I never wrote them down to remember them. Then I wondered if they were even worth remembering. Then I chastised myself for harboring insecurities regarding something so subjective. Then I chastised myself for encouraging unconditional confidence.

Long story long, I find myself reading so many essays and poems and song lyrics that I identify with. Not only do I identify with them, but I'd like to try my pen at a few. But I get caught up in the dangerous Motive Zone where I wonder for what reason I present such thoughts. If happiness is only real when shared, are thoughts only real if presented for discussion? If I keep something inside, do I benefit from it? If I let everything go, what do I have left?

Meh. I need to purify the process. Expand the process. Never again have to answer the question, "Are you still writing?" with "I don't know. Sort of."

looking at a milky skyline/the city is my church

Interesting: loneliness is attached to both people and places.

I was thinking about who I know best and thought, "who knows me best?" and couldn't really think of anybody. For the amount of talking I do, I suppose I don't do all of my talking with any one person. In fact, I always considered myself incapable of keeping anything about me to myself, but I totally am.

I was worried I was moving away for the people, but I'll fight loneliness everywhere. It really is a matter of fighting it wherever I want to most... right now, that's definitely here. I really miss my family, but I'll need to deal with that through most choices I'm excited to make right now.

Here we go again: what to do, what to do? Ah yes, choose the option with no cons.

Ah yes, realize there isn't one/choose the option with the most pros.

It's time to stamp New York with a different phase of my life.

***

Fresh sunlight paints the recently woken East and extends to greet the West. I take advantage of my window seat and grow eager to take inventory of where a new day meets old night. As the nose of my aircraft fights for its space in the atmosphere, I imagine my newborn nose poking sky for the first time as the animal kingdom celebrates the arrival of an heir to the throne. A few years from now, Mufasa whispers to me, “Everything the sun touches will one day be yours.”

Le Glorious Sigh

So I was thinking,

it's harder to write when I'm happy. now that I write that<-- I remember I've written about this before. my blog frequency trends follow the emotional trends I've had trouble dealing with without writing about them. when I'm excited to just get out and DO, I do that instead of write about it.

there are so many sensations and thoughts I'd like to mull over and get down into form, but I can't even sit still for that long.

everything is going my way, and I can't even fathom why that is, outside of God's great love for me. I remember saying, God, you had better show me fairly soon why I'm better off this way, because right now I don't believe you.

ha! I love how "challenging" God only challenges yourself. in God's goodness, He separated me from what He knew I didn't need and sat with me through the pain of my own ignorance until I emerged, better for it, on the other side. and now I sit in a warm bedroom I share with my sister-slash-best friend across the hall from my brother-slash-best friend killing time until I mosey on over to one of two amazing jobs. my biggest worries concern which dream I will follow next, and my biggest expenses are funding my next adventures. I have never felt so whole, and I could never have imagined that so much independence would yield so much peace.

long story short, if you're wondering where I've been, it's because I'm too busy thinking about where I haven't. what a great age and time and weather and disposition to consider all of this during. In sifting through my blog in future years, I need this to be documented. right now, Lucy, you couldn't have asked for more.

oh! no reason not to fill you in. this is why I'm so happy:

-I have a pet turtle named Simon and ILOVEHIM (there he is now!)

-I have a job that lets me paint my nails

-my other job just promoted me

-I'm not going to school ever again and I'm not worse off for it! [cue Tayler cringing and my hearing about it later... love yooooou]

-I see New York and all its wonders (and all my buddies!) in two short weeks!

-I have plans to travel to ICELAND

-I just auditioned to be a Wheel of Fortune contestant!!!

-I'm moving back to New York in 6 months :)

-just thinking about the holidays makes me giddy

-I have two kicka$$ concerts in my near future

-I know of ways to get myself to Portland, Seattle, Alaska, and Denmark

-I mull over which tattoos to get in which order, and that feels cooooool

-my hair is red!

-and more, somewhere, somehow :)

Seasons

I remember exactly what I wrote one year ago today. That year has been the most dynamic in my life.

My favorite part of my life right now looks like a winding neighborhood road on a beautiful, cloudless fall day. My windows are down, my favorite song is playing, I just ended my work day, and my family is home. The best part is that this happens almost every single day.

I still find ruts--one best friend expressed that he didn't realize I do. And I don't either, because I'm usually too busy mentally remarking at how fortunate I am and how much freedom my future has.

The only rut that sticks is that I have no motivation to write and I don't know why that is. I'm hoping it's a season of life just like anything else.

Most days, I realize I'm still waving at a boat that's very close to disappearing over the horizon. From then on... smooth sailing, friends.

jus' stopping by

thoughts:

--more tattoos

--found out about Steve Jobs's death on an iMac

--I need an iPad. need. I said it.

--travel

--God is good

--please please take me to the beach

--I was going to type one sentence about this one thought, but it just turned into a poem right before my eyes. in the way that I haven't written it yet. in which case, by "before," I mean "behind." you know, cause it's in my head and all.

--I love you suckers

Fall Back, Spring Forward

I woke up more than once yesterday. The sister's alarm told her to go to work right before the brother's, and I was next. I could feel the chill coming in through the curtains, and it nipped at my toes as they peeked out from under the comforter to welcome a brand new day. I chose long pants and a dress code jacket. I found pumpkin muffins and a flannel-coated father when I reached the top of the stairs and felt, for the first time this year, that overwhelming Fall.

I wonder if it's the animalistic part of humanity that sends our psyches into seasonal habits, but I'd like to explore with you the transition of one of my own.

The fall of....let's see. 2006. The fall of 2006 began my crush on a boy. Crushes are exhausting. Mentally, emotionally, and physically as a result. I spent that fall wishing and dreaming and wondering and scheming, and it spilled over into winter without me realizing or keeping count. He started dating my best friend the following spring, and so I returned to the independent, self-confident, unaffected version of me. They broke up that summer, and in the fall of 2007, my more dependent, emotional, romantic side started to surface once more. I was doing whatever I thought it would take to secure him, and I did. The resulting winter and spring were somewhat blissful, if I remember correctly, in a high-school-honeymoon sort of way. And then for whatever reasons, the summer slid down into a fall that left me feeling insecure and grasping for effortless mutual interest once more.

This past year and a half has revealed more to me about mental habits than I ever knew existed. If I had entertained the idea that my cycles of overanalysis depend on, well, the fact that they are cycles, I think I would have remained more aware about reigning them in. But I didn't, and as a result, whenever the first chill of fall hits--the first college football game, the debut of pumpkin ingredients in grocery stores, the final sale of all short-sleeved items--I begin to notice my mental...decline, for lack of a better word, into the half of me that functions best as a worried and infatuated half of a whole. When spring rolls around and wakes me from my hibernation of insecurity, prompting my confident green leaves to burst forth, they do, and all pangs of fall inferiority are forgotten.

Noticing this strange pattern has fascinated me for the past four years, but this year presents a curveball. The cycle has reversed. I will spend this fall more content than I've ever been in a fall that I can remember. And the way timing and friendships go, I anticipate (though don't look forward to) possible emotional attachment by the time spring rolls around. What I'm left to wonder is if this year will feel entirely like a skip in a record track, or if it will feel like a brand new precedent.

I've never explained this sensation to anybody and been met with understanding, and that fascinates me even more. Is it overthinking itself that produces these hypotheses? I'm not sure. All I know is that wool socks and peppermint mochas are appearing like film editing discrepancies; it's been so long since they stopped by while I felt this happy and excited for my future that I suspect their misplacement.

I leave you with this: an entry from dearoldlove.com that reminded me I wanted to write this post.

Habit

I'm at the point where missing you isn't even genuine. It's just that I've been doing it every day for so long that it's a habit.

[by the way, I submitted to this site, and it got published! yay! happy hunting....]