a process of departure, i think

every term brings out a new struggle, most of them involving time, or my lack of it. the reason this term feels different is that the cause of my lack of time is a much more positive thing than it has been for quite some time. the object of my processing that is taking up so much brain space is a beautiful, wonderful thing, and i am not used to that. i'm used to pouring over the dark depths of my soul, as exposed by uncomfortable situations and the occasional platonic heart break. i haven't dealt with real heart break in longer than it feels like. but that was part of the succession, at one point.

the thing about this term is that i haven't had the time to be grateful. i haven't had the time as of yet to sit down and just spend time with the one who has thrown all of this wonderful at me. and, not to say that it's not real now, but the act of being truly grateful somehow cements it, you know? seals the deal, i think. i mean i feel.

but today is going to be that day, i'm hoping. i want to today to be a reset day. i want today to be my thankful day. my day to sit and recognize how much i've been given in the past two months, and also to recognize how poorly i've appreciated it. it's funny that my resolution for this year was essentially to stop and smell the roses. i've gotten so far away from that. although not quite as far as i did once. which is encouraging, but still not enough.

i was going to go up to the mountain and find a place to sit and pray, etc., but that was before i got out of bed and realized that it was 47 degrees and rainy. plan b, i guess : ).

i also want to clean my room and read some psychology and just kind of start over. but more than all of that, i just want to feel grateful for a little while. i want to really feel it. because there is so much for me to feel it for. involvement. guidance. gifts. a completely unnecessary and surprising someone.

ok. i'm going to start the process, i think. good day : )

intentionality and the meaning of life

i think that snow makes me thoughtful. the fact that i actually have brain space to devote to thinking is probably adding to my introspective tendencies today.

also, i played piano forever this afternoon after class, and am sitting on the once was yellow but now is brown futon just kind of soaking in my scratchy throat and tired eyes. of all the parts of me to make tired, playing music chooses my eyes? but if eyes really are the windows into the soul, then i suppose that makes sense. if i unlock them for a few hours while i play piano, then they are going to be tired. not that they're so locked usually, but i do think that my curiousity points them outward,which doesn't leave room for too much exposition. like i'm so focused on seeing into others' windows that my eyes tend to reflect instead of being transparent? which is convenient, as far as self-preservation goes. not that i've ever been good at self-preservation, mind you. which is less unfortunate than i used to think, i think.

but. that amazing grand piano does loosen them up, i feel - my eyes i mean. or rather, give them license to be as intense as they like, so loosen is the wrong word. free, the verb, perhaps. anyway, the point is that this is the first time i've been able to go and just play until i was done, you know? and the chapel was open. which is just glorious. because i could see the snow and i could hear the echo of my voice and the piano bouncing off the back wall and i didn't have to be anywhere. i wish i communicate the whole process; the emptiness of the pews, the sound of my feet on the tile walking up to the piano, the resonating squeak of the bench on the wood floor of the stage, the first notes, the first chords that just fill the empty all the way up. the whole building just rings with it, you know?

mm.

i haven't worn my boyfriend sweater since being back at school. i felt that it was about time i did, and i am very cozy for that decision.

i also have been thinking about the nature of my heart lately. and what i mean by that is i am discovering just how much of a responsive heart i have been given. i see it everywhere now, in my friendships, in my academics, in my music - everything is a response or a reaction to something or someone. it sounds like a general discovery, doesn't it? doesn't everyone do that? but i don't think everyone is so responsive. i think some people are generative - meaning that they generate things from the inside out, while responders, like me, react to things from the outside in. you would think, as an introvert, that i would be the former rather than the latter, wouldn't you? but i suppose they are separate, extravertedness and responsiveness.

anyway. i'm going to go organize my life a bit. well, maybe.

happy snow day : ).

the new history

it's amazing how quickly one can forget a resolution. i was so dedicated. and then, i came back to school and my life exploded with exciting things like hearing that i'd been missed by everyone i saw (whether they really did or not) and i went silly. and my frivolous silliness is the antithesis of the beauty i swore to seek this year.

now. no one is above silliness. and i'm not so upset with myself for being silly - there are times when it's wonderful and fun and born of a very centered joy. i like that silliness. and even if it was an off-kilter silliness, it wouldn't be a terrible problem; i'm a relatively silly girl, all things considered, and it would be foolish for me to try to become a serious person. and not very fun at all. the trouble with my silliness, however, comes when one realizes that with my schedule as it is, i don't have time to slow myself down and rediscover that centered joy when i do start to get unhooked. or rather, it is that much harder to slow down. i do have time. it's whether i utilize it effectively or not.

the other . . . bothersome part of all of this is where it's coming from. well. to say "other" is to imply that these two things are unrelated when in fact, this second one is simply a more real explanation of why i'm being silly right now.

anyway, secondly, i've hit a phase of independence and am full out running. i think part of my rebellion at this point comes from how much i've had to lean on the big guy for the past several months; now that i'm free, i'm going to be free, damnit. which of course ends up absolutely crushing my spirit. but what if he is not where i want to be, you know? what if his perfect plan is not the same as mine? then i would have to move. and i really don't want to move.

anyway. what was i talking about? joy and where i can find it?

oh, the irony.

considering my tendency toward independence makes me wonder if my drive to do and take-on comes from an addiction to dependence. i wonder if somewhere in my subconscious i've learned to purposefully overwhelm myself because of the rewards of the recovery process.

in other words i think i'm a masochist? not really.

what i mean is this: in my life thus far, the times when i am most joyful and fulfilled are the times when my physical circumstances are two seconds away from being crippling. my experience of joy has always been born of some deep form of emotional suffering and, in my opinion, that joy is worth having to go through deep emotional suffering. it is . . . moving. in the way that it touches me and in the way that it makes me want to move. so i am not turned off by the thought of being overwhelmed because i assume that means joy will be shortly to follow. if i will slow down and let it, which is my current issue with myself.

it would make sense to just let myself be held then, i suppose, and tap into joy without having to collapse into it, but i think my heart will always need to run and spring back, run and spring back. i'm not exactly sure what i'm running from at this point, to be completely honest, but i've always been more of a spiritual and emotional sprinter, anyway. cross country is kind of my nemesis in matters of the heart and spirit. and mind, come to think of it. and definitely body.

i'm going to end my disjointed and not very well explained thought process here, because i've gotten enough out to go be productive (hopefully). one of these days i may communicate a full thought, but i wouldn't count on it any time soon : ).

i am on my way back to the middle, i hope.

also, i like yoga.

to notice the unnoticeable

i started 2008 by waking up to the middle of a deep thought process. at first, i was distressed, because i didn't want to be thinking so consumingly only 5 short hours after i'd gone to bed, but my thoughts did not want to sort themselves back into their assigned boxes for later contemplation, so i got up. the drive home was one of the most productive drive-and-thinks i've had for quite some time now - i thought about new year's resolutions and my self (surprised?) and my friends but most of all beauty. and the departure from it.

here is what i think about beauty at this moment in my life and thought process:

it is my new year's resolution to make 2008 a year of beauty. i hope to dedicate myself to its cause, though i know it's something i will desperately want to turn my back on sometimes. i suppose that it's kind of unfair to call this simply a new year's resolution, because in all honesty it's becoming my life's work. isn't that what counseling ultimately is? the quest for scattered beauty? rediscovering the beauty that's been lost in a person, by way of teaching them to see and appreciate it again, i mean. something is blocking their view, as it is, whether it's brain chemistry or tragic life circumstances or overpowering relationships. i want to clear that block, in my life and others'.

hm? can i?

of course not. but the process of trying is worth it regardless.

and this, this will be enough to occupy my heart for the rest of my life. it should be, anyway. i know i will be distracted along the way - beauty is such that you have to live to wait for it. bothersome, yeah? but you have to live knowing it exists, without seeing it often, because it does. oh how it does. the more i do and the older i get the less frequently i encounter beauty, but the times i do encounter it are so much more powerful than they've ever been. now it's real. now it's eye contact, silence, a caring hand.

i think my thought processes on this were triggered by taking ben to see i am legend yesterday, to be honest - as much as it is an action/suspense, it is a beautiful movie. or rather, it does a good job of representing the beauty in humanity. the whole thing was designed to be a comment on humanity, anyway, but there's such room for error in that, you know. i'm always wary of a hollywood portrayal of the fundamentals, but this film was removed enough to be a good one. by that i mean that it didn't try to define what it means to be human, it simply alluded to a small portion of the definition. that wisdom in approaching the communication of such a subject is beautiful in itself, i think.

anyway, there is a scene in which will smith's character is holding a little boy who's fallen asleep that sent a tear down my cheek; he picks him up and just stops for a moment, feeling the boy's weight, closing his eyes and soaking in his sleepy child-ness, you know? there is something so restorative in that. there is something beautiful in that. and so this scene was a hint. a little window into this huge idea that i find myself pursuing.

mm.

well.

happy new year, and here's to beauty.

little victories

this time, i'll be sailing
no more bailing boats for me
i'll be out there on the sea
just my confidence and me

and i'll be awful sometimes
weakened to my knees
but i'll learn to get by
on little victories

this time, i'll have no fear
i'll be standing strong and tall
turn my back towards them all

and i'll be awful sometimes
weakened to my knees
and i'll learn to get by
on the little victories
and if the world decides to catch up with me
it's a little victory

[matt nathanson]

i feel like this song could come across as such a passive-aggressive communication, but it's not meant to be. it is simply this - that i've had this song stuck in my head today so far and i think parts of it are fairly accurate regarding where i am in my life. and it's beautiful. as per the usual with matt nathanson.

in other news, bridgette's coming today! i am so ready.

g'day.

loaded questions, the board game

it was fun.

"how long does it take you to go to the bathroom, on average?"
(we all write down our answers and pass them in)
"ok. the first one says . . . it's flatulates. fajita day!"
"wait. ben. that says fluctuate."
"oh."

and then, aunt wendy burst into a fit of laughter that lasted for a good ten minutes, causing the rest of us to laugh until we cried because she was still bent over in the corner wiping her eyes after the next turn.

oh my.

anyway. my skin is all post-bath loveliness, i have one of my favorite old crumplysoft t-shirts on and i think it's time i attempted to describe what it feels like to be home. or rather what it feels like to be home at this particular moment, because it depends. but. it is two o'clock in the morning and that is when my best communication happens. also, i slept in the car all day, and therefore am not very tired.

usually car rides are a wonderful time to stop and think about my life and day dream, staring out the window with my music of the day blaring in my ears. i find that i've had a lot of time to think for the past three months, however, and i think i'm tired of thinking. not to say that i'm planning on stopping anytime soon, i just need to think outward, if that makes sense. i need to interact and screw up and then go think on my own. i need my thinking to be an exploration of a response to someone or something, as opposed to an exposition of some dark corner of my soul. not that those two don't go together, in fact, they should go together - the response leads to the dark corner because it is a reflection of it, but i've been so introspective that i've stopped responding to people, sometimes. not to mention that self-examination gets very tiring after a bit, and i've never been good with self-motivation anyway.

i'm just a little stale. it's like writer's block for soul-searching. sometimes you just can't. slash don't want to.

i've spent plenty of quality time with myself and it's time for some outside input. which translates into me being the most ready to go back to school that i've ever been, though i am glad i've had an adjustment period at home before i do - i think that school right after england would have led to a dive into carelessness, to be honest. a daisy-like carelessness, a distraction carelessness. not that i haven't started to fall into that at home anyway, but the level of recklessness would have been greater at school, i think. with recklessness referring to my disregard of conviction. my unwillingness to identify my weaknesses. it's like a blindness to them, really, like i just can't see them - i block them out.

aw. too bad. i guess i'll have to be smug for a little while.

which i hate, honestly honestly i hate it when i get to this part. although being arrogant is quite lovely in its own ego fluffing sort of way. i would be lying if i said i didn't enjoy it just as i hate it.

it's funny, typing about this, because i didn't realize that it was bothering me. apparently it is, depending on one's opinion of the importance of the subconscious. i haven't decided how exactly i feel about it: telling, but fairly easy to overcome, i've found. well, i should say fairly easy to muddle up en route to its expression, which makes it's communication unreliable, and potentially inaccurate.

there's a tangent for you.

i'm tired now.

um, in conclusion, that's what it feels like to be home?

ha. this will be a many-part description. and totally disjointed on first examination. but such is life. and my thought processes on it. it all connects somehow, i promise.

good mornin'.

playing with bookmarks

ok. i've finally discovered my bookmark tool bar. this is exciting for me, but i couldn't get the icons to show beside the names of the sites, and so i was very frustrated. but now, i've figured it out, and my tool bar is as pretty as it should be. i had to arrange them by color and shape. i think i have a very distinctly artistic/visual-type ocd. maybe i'm just eccentric. i think that's how i would define eccentricity, anyway. depending on the understanding of ocd - if we're going with the socially used and accepted one, then yes. if we're talking the scientifically researched one, then no. they are different. one's a quirk, the other is a disorder.

another quirk? i hate real bookmarks. and i hate dog-earing pages. sometimes i use bobby pins. sometimes i just remember the page. i like index cards. they're better than bookmarks-by-name for some reason. maybe because they fit inside the book and don't stick out the top. egh. the tassles are the worst.

anyway. i'm full of adrenaline that was designed to be used on brain power for my exam, but i definitely didn't need it; it was one question. one question on memory as an exam for an entire course worth of lecture. and we were able to choose between two of them! why didn't i come to england for my entire uni career? but i am glad i haven't. think of how easy my masters will be. that is, if i get my masters. plans are becoming more hazy as i get closer to them, i think that may be a little backwards.

the point is that i have jittery things coursing through me, but i want to sleep. i need to sleep, but i'm not sure i can. so here i am : ), typing absolute nonsense and admiring my new (pretty) bookmark tool bar.

i'm going to make sweet potato soup for lunch today.

that's all.