Into the West

I can't sleep. At night. I could sleep all day though, which I know is both a symptom and a cause. It's just that the minute I lay down, my thoughts go into overdrive. What ifs, what could be, will be, was. Relive old hurts, old joys, wonder where I belong in certain hearts. I can't decide which is worse, the awake or the asleep. At least when I am awake I have the freedom to tell truth from fiction. My dreams don't allow such differentiation. In them I am often convinced of where I am, who I am with. It's not the regrets I relive that hurt the most. It's the dreams when I believe I am back in a happy moment, with the people I miss the most, being loved the way I want to be loved. To wake up and find it was nothing more than a wish...these are the reasons I lie here awake. At least this way I can know when I'm lying to myself....

I've recently discovered that every morning I should look through the notebook I keep by my bed. On more than one occasion I've been surprised to find a new entry that wasn't there before I went to bed. Either I have philosophical elves writing their musings down while I sleep, or in my restless hours I sleepily scribble down thoughts I have no recollection of the next morning. Because I can't remember writing them, I'm trying to decide how I define them. I'm torn between thinking that I'm trying way too hard to be poetic and deep or that I couldn't have possibly been, and considering their birth from a sleepy and well-meaning place, they actually ARE poetic, in a very innocent way. Considering that I usually find "to-do" lists mixed in with them, I'm thinking it may be the latter. Who spills their heart on the same page as their grocery list?

An example of my late-night journal mumblings:

"The thing about your heart is, once you've given part away, you can never get it back. You can grow it back, this isn't to say your heart won't ever be whole again. Just remember that it will take time, and it probably won't look quite the same as it did before. That part you've given is a totally unique bit that now belongs to someone else, so before you give it away, be careful. Make sure they're worthy"

"Time flies..."

...you know the rest.

Tonight has been a really good night for retrospection. A candlelit bath time really provides ample opportunity to look backwards as well as forwards, marvel at what has been, what is, and what may be to come.
I'm not quite sure exactly how I've gotten where I am today. To be completely honest, it's not the best place. Or rather, it's not what I expected but I sense I'm in that all important moment where I'm choosing what to make of where I've landed. I've lost some things, yes. Mostly just a few dreams I've had to let go of. But the important things (though at times I may lose sight of them), they will always be there. It's just a matter of setting my eyes upon them.
I've also been given unexpected gifts. That happens every day, I am the daughter of a very generous God, but these gifts I'm speaking of are the kind that were not only unexpected, but so new and foreign to me I don't know what to do with them. It's easy to look at these new things and allow myself to place them in the "new and scary; let's not" category, but I'm working to move forward despite that.
Moving forward. The ever daunting task. This is the hardest of all. Looking back, though not always pleasant, is familiar. Looking forward, however, is so unknown it's often easier to avoid completely. Are there signs here leading my way? Do I just need to properly interpret them? Or I am meant to make this decision on my own, in faith that wherever I go the Lord will be there to make use of me where I land? When I think of some of the desires I had that now seem to be unfeasible vs. the things around me I could potentially choose to pursue that I never planned, I'm left completely at a loss. When life can change so quickly, how can I be expected to decide now what I'll be doing later?
I'm starting to understand Joni Mitchell's "Both sides now," far more than I ever have.

"The end of summer's here and I'm so glad it's over..."

...Gregory Page, I couldn't have said it better myself.

Florida isn't completely on board with me as far as the "end of summer" is concerned. YET. But I sense it's coming. Cooler weather is meant to be upon us soon. Mind you, it will still be far hotter than October in most places, but any improvement is welcome. I dream of wearing scarves and boots and sweaters. Considering the fact that this is what my wardrobe is mostly composed of, it's been an interesting and rather repetitive summer fashion-wise.

It's only just become Fall, but I already find my thoughts wandering ahead to Christmas. No surprise there. I'm going to be lucky enough to get to spend a week of December in Seattle, experiencing what I hope is proper winter weather. I only wish I had the funds/time to also make a trip to Paris. The thought of my favorite city all lit up to celebrate my favorite time of year is too much to handle sometimes, knowing it will all be there, yet I won't. I just have to have faith that it wouldn't be such a strong desire of my heart if I wasn't meant to find myself there again. I'll just keep working hard so when the time is right, I'll be ready.
For now, I shall enjoy my Autumn. Pumpkins, costumes, etc. The days for coats and Bing Crosby will be here soon enough.

What has the life of little ol' me entailed these past few months? It's been a blur. A fast-moving sequence of blessings and growth with the Lord that blows my mind when I stop and see it all. I never thought the reason I'd been brought out here was to have my self laid out in front of me for examination and restoration. By no means is He finished with me, the work has only just begun. It's not easy stuff either, but the more I learn about what the Lord really wants for me, to have, to be, the more inspired I am not to settle for anything less.

"The wind blows through the trees, it sounds so good to me.
The end of summer's here and I'm so glad it's over.
Bullfrogs sing their song, crickets hum along.
The end of summer's here and I'm so glad it's over.
Rest in peace tonight under the pale moonlight.
The end of summer's here..."

Bah Humbug to the New Year

The Christmas season should last all year. The lights, the smells, the good will. The 25th is the day we celebrate the birth of our Lord, but I find the day itself to simply mark the end of the celebration. For me, it is the time leading up to the day that truly draws out the childish awe and wonder that brings me closer to Him. Though I am far from home, I am blessed with the comfort of things that remind me how loved I am.

Let's list some blessings, shall we? Some surprises that the Lord has sent my way to show His love for me. My undeserving and ungrateful heart could use a reminder of just how much I've been given, to remember that even in my darkest hour I am bathed in the love and light of Christ.

A Honeybaked Ham. Yes ladies and gentleman, yesterday as I lounged around watching Friends and eating Chick-fil-A I was surprised by a knock on the door, a shout of "UPS", and lo and behold, a man in brown was standing outside holding a Honeybaked Ham box. 'Twas a gift from my roommate's family. Nothing says Christmas like meat. And as you all know...I love meat.

A Wonderful Schedule. This week has been all Nanny, all the time. And Christmas Eve? I get to carpool, get ready with, and share a breakroom with my roomie. That doesn't happen often, and we're quite excited.

I am Loved. I have no doubts. I know that even though I am not at home for Christmas, there are those who wish I were. The same people who do their best to include me in their lives as best they can. The calls, the messages, the emails. I don't know if they know how much all of it means to me, but it truly does. There are times when it breaks my heart to know some of the things I'm missing out on, the things I'm not apart of, but knowing they'd include me if they could is consolation.

January? I declare that you shall be postponed. 2 more weeks of Christmas!

To cross a country...

I write to you, my few dear friends, 3 hours ahead of my usual self. 3 hours ahead and 3000 miles east.

Before I could claim myself settled, I first had to get myself here. Monday night, 10 pm, the goodbye's were issued. Pulling out of Vittoria's driveway, I saw the silhouette of my beloved mother grow smaller and smaller, and I finally felt the weight of my decisions. The task ahead of us, 20 hours of straight driving before reaching our first overnight destination, left me with plenty of time to contemplate the changes ahead of me, the decisions behind me. I was offered a beautiful distraction, however, with the arrival of an epic lightning storm ahead of us. For 2 hours we drove through the dark desert, seemingly heading straight into a heavenly battle. The midnight horizon was frequently lit up by the unending storm, gathering it's strength and getting closer and closer. Though we were in awe of it's beauty and humbled by it's size, we were by no means looking forward to driving into it's center. Thankfully, we were blessed enough to have it pass through our path just before we were to reach it.

San Antonio was reached early Tuesday evening, much to our relief. An enjoyable walk through their famed Riverwalk, a quick dinner, and we were ready for bed. We arose bright and early, ready for another full day of driving. We'd already made it through Arizona, New Mexico, and were halfway through Texas. A beautiful sunrise greeted us as we continued to drive through Texas' beautiful half, reaching New Orleans late afternoon. A stroll along the Mississippi, beignets at Cafe du Monde, and a delicious cajun dinner was enough activity for our weary bodies, and another early night was taken.

The next day was a whirlwind of states, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and finally, Florida, my temporary home. We arrived, the lease was signed, and it hit me. In the middle of Publix, the Floridian equivalent to Vons, I called my mother and lost my composure. I had arrived. I had committed myself. There was no going back.

And here we are, a day or so later. After settling in a bit, finding a friend in an old friend of Vittoria's, and getting a bit more comfortable with the area, the little moments of panic are starting to be less frequent. I'll find happiness here, I'm sure. My only fear is regarding my purpose. I hope that my life here, even if it is just for a short while, is built on more than aimlessness. Work will dictate much, I am sure, but I hope to find meaningful friendships outside of work with which to spend my free time with.

I still have Vittoria, for a bit longer than week still. I am so blessed to have her with me. The comfort of her presence makes it all so much easier. I am not looking forward to her departure, but have faith that I've been blessed enough to have her here when I need her most, and will be equipped to continue building a life for myself here once she's gone.

Well friends, when we compare this post with the first few you received upon my arrival to Paris, I am sure you will find my transitioning skills much improved. And I apologize if my language seems a bit odd, I write this while watching BBC's Pride and Prejudice, and fear that their vernacular has been slowly seeping it's way in.

God doesn't make deals. I should have known this. I should have realized that when I submitted to His will, there was no promise of what the result of that would be. But instead, I tried to retain some of the control He was desperately trying to get me to sacrifice. Instead, I said yes to His plan, but in the back of my mind I made it my own. I decided I knew where it was going, where it would or wouldn't end.
God doesn't make deals. There is no "Ok Lord, but only as long as blah blah etc etc."

"No regrets." That's a load of poo. Yeah, everybody says it. And I'm sure, years from now, this will reveal itself as some piece of a larger puzzle I've yet to see. But right now, this just sucks. My heart hurts more than I ever thought it could. I thought I knew what heartbreak felt like. I thought the hurt of loss would be the sharpest pain I would ever have to feel. But I've discovered something far worse.

I would rather tear my heart to pieces than do any harm to yours.

Lord, I want to make a new deal. Spare his heart, break mine instead. It's too late for me anyway.

...and the livin' is easy

Summer typically marks the time of year when things slow down for people. School is out, vacations are taken, readings lists get completed. I, however, find myself anticipating the opposite (well, I'll probably still include the reading list bit.) Summer has begun and I am finally busy once more. It looks like Sea World will be demanding my presence 4-5 days a week, I'll be hanging out in Point Loma at the camp my best friend is working at, and the return of some of my dear friends from their pursuits of higher education is sure to provide a companion for the hours in between.

Though I wouldn't label it a "vacation," I do get to make a little trip up to the lush state of Washington this week. Clinton is graduating from the Evergreen State University, and I'm heading up to attend. My mom, dad, and sister are already on their way up there, driving up the beautiful western coast, but I'll be flying up a little later. The demands of a job make a leisurely drive an impossibility for me.
Clinton is going to be staying up in Seattle this summer with all of our best friends, an exciting plan for them and one that makes me wish I had the freedom to join them. My little weekend up there is just going to leave me wanting more, I'm sure of it.

I am currently working at the school, one last morning before summer break officially sets in here, and am sitting here in my Sea World uniform because I'm heading there in a bit. My favorite little boy with a precious speech impediment just came in, Tommy, looked at my name tag and said, "Emily, there's a Sea World thing on your shirt." His voice was filled with concern and confusion, the same tone he may have used to tell me I had my shirt on backwards or a spider on my shoulder. "I know Tommy, that's because I work there," I replied. His only reaction to my response was to cock his head to one side and slowly back out of my office and down the hallway, keeping his eyes on my name tag the entire time, as if he were expecting it to jump off my shirt and attach itself to his.