A Text Message from Mom

"Pick a place to raise a family and raise a family. Never move. Put down new roots. Start new traditions. Pass on the traditions and words and sayings that mean something to you, and just let someone love you simply. Complicated love is so hard. The grass is never greener - same thing different challenges and different fun. Every relationship (from the one you have with your special pet, girlfriends, in laws, and spouse) requires both parties to put in one hundred percent. It’s not 50/50. You are loyal, and that will translate beautifully for you in your relationships to come."
 

I really hope that whoever I end up with loves books so that he will understand my references to literature and we can lay in bed together and read and have a huge library created from the combination of two individual lifetimes

The Garden of Me

The pockets of this neighborhood are well worn with nostalgia. I walk the streets at sundown and listen to the wind, and the birds, and the volume of the world alive -- cars vroooming down side streets, the leaf blowers familiar racket, children laughing, dogs barking, and the sound of my high-tops lightly trodding on concrete.

And in this outside space - full of so much normal that, sometimes, I forget to listen - I exist so freely, and the dream narrative that runs through my mind becomes something possible to create.

I am fully awake in this fresh air suburbia, and I am writing my own story in the clear blue of my mind. And all the things I want to be, and do, and see are penciled in on the pages of time stretched ahead of me. And I realize now that it’s up to me to place these seed ideas into the soil of my life garden.

What I put into this earth matters, so I’m doing my best to sit in this planting place each day and tend to the precious life that is growing here. I never want to stop stopping to smell the roses or stand in awe of the bougainvillea, because I understand, now, how long they took to grow.

Someday, when I tell my kids these stories, I’ll start by describing the way the sunlight felt as it poured onto the garden of me.

Heartstrings

Like moving to a new home in the same town

It can never be the same twice 

 

All the days we’ve spent growing up apart  

All the days we will continue not to know each other 

All the days we will become more and more our own as we become less and less each others

 

Stories are happening to us and we don’t pick up the phone to call and tell about them with excitement still in our voices 

 

New life has become us and will continue to become us

No more hellos or how are you’s or ice cream sandwiched between two fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies 

No more childhood stars on the ceiling to watch over us as we sleep 

 

Stark stale silence

Forever to fill the space in between us

 

Funny how happy I am, despite the whole thing

A Fun Night We Had in College

SoOoOooo I moved onto my school campus a couple of months ago and now I live in a dorm room with three other girls. We run out of toilet paper every other day and talk too much and take naps at the least ideal hours forcing everyone else into a silent existence for thirty minutes or two hours because you just neeeever know with naps. 

We are never alone and sometimes that's hard, but we make space for each other to grow into the people we are becoming. We share the pieces of ourselves that you have to when you live in one room together. Like the fact that you're an insomniac and an active sleeper who is prone to snoozing their alarm ten times before rolling out of bed. WuUuuUt who ??  Meeee? Actually, yeah. Me.

By the grace of God we all get along. And even when we don't, we do.

I'm grateful for this weird little life of mine and the way that things constantly come together despite my fears and inhibitions. 

New Spaces

I wrote the following during the summertime. I've grown and changed a lot since, but I'm still learning how to breathe in new spaces. I think I always will be.


When I was a tiny lil nugget my dad taught me how to swim in the ocean. We spent the whole afternoon floating and diving and getting familiar with a world that had yet been known to me. I learned a lot that day, but the sea is strong and unpredictable.

Even though I knew how to approach the waves I still found myself in the crashing and was tumbled by the break. 

It’s a powerless feeling to be shaken so hard that you don’t know which way is up, but my dad taught me how to find direction despite disorientation. He told me that if I blew bubbles out of my nose underwater I could always follow them to the surface.

It was silly and simple advice, but he was right and I never got lost in the tumbling again.

I’m 22 now, and the waves that I’m learning how to face are less water and more salt. Car payments and school loans. Anxiety, anxiety, anxiety. More anxiety. 

Today was a really hard day, but somewhere in between brain thumps and tears touching skin I remembered that summer afternoon I spent in the unfamiliar deep.

The ocean used to intimidate the hell out of me, and now it’s my favorite place to exist.

Ironic how, even underwater, learning how to breathe can save your life.