At the keys again

Finding where to begin is difficult. I haven't posted in well over a month and in that time I've run into many events and topics I thought about writing on but never did. I think I have a lot of good things to say as I've learned more over the last several months than I could ever begin to explain.

Those, however, can wait until another day.

I've just gotten back from seeing Derek. My last visit with him was the first I'd seen him outside of the Starbucks on 192 and A1A in a long time. It was short because I was sick and very tired. Of course today I have no voice, so let that serve as further proof that some things never change.

I can't say I know for sure what was different about tonight, but I felt more relaxed than I'd been in a while. He picked on me for not being able to talk, laughed as I turned my last two ravioli into a pair of eyes for my plate and created the rest of the face with sauce and parsley, told me some unexpected things about one of his best friends from high school, and I heard of his latest failures in potential relationships.

We also finally got to discuss the letter he gave me before I left for Christmas. I asked what he had been trying to accomplish with it and at first he didn't know. Later amendments seem to point towards a desire to make sure I knew he really had loved and cared about me even if he'd been bad at showing it. I was a little sad as he told me that he would have to know for the rest of his life that he ruined my fairy tale. I told him it was okay because I was never actually looking for one. Sometimes I think a fairy tale would be nice, but I don't believe in them. They don't happen.

Spending time with Derek always reminds me what a great friendship we had. I think we're much better in that context than when we were dating. I'm glad we're finding a way to not let the mistakes we made there destroy what's really important.

As I say that another old friend randomly shows up on my instant messenger. Keebler is trying to figure out how to clean printer rollers so his wedding invitations aren't destroyed and telling me that another girl we knew is also getting married. From what I hear there seems to be a lot of that going around, but I don't have to worry about weddings until TJ stops slacking off and proposes to Liz.

The first thing that comes to mind when I say that is how little I'm looking forward to shopping for a dress to play maid of honor in. I never did like playing dress-up even if I'm told I do it well. I just don't feel comfortable.

No need to worry about that now though, right? I think I'll go to bed glad that I've had a day that was both enjoyable and productive, and that the only words I had when I stood smiling at the sky tonight were, "Yes. Magic."

:: smiles ::

It's strange what saying that has done. I'm left with a warm feeling inside my chest that tells me life is okay. I see colors and I can feel a smile inside because the world is amazing. My thoughts dance here and there, but what started as a tough day has ended well. I'm truly thankful for that.

Captured At:2122

"If at all God's gaze upon us falls..."

Back in December, not too long before I went home for Christmas, I arrived at work and began writing something I thought would be posted here within a day or two. It never happened.

It was a serious post, too. Like many others it talked about my admiration of sunrises and sunsets, but there was something much more important there. It hit something I've been struggling with for so long I can't even remember when the real fight began.

I'd had a conversation with a friend of mine that seemed harmless at the time. I drove home from our meeting and the more I thought about what they'd said the more afraid and worried I became. The fact that I felt that way said a lot.

I realized that I believe in darkness and evil without question. I've always frightened easily and carried a lot of fear that's often completely irrational. I don't like hearing anything related to ghosts or spirits and I've never liked haunted houses, real or otherwise. The problem is that I've never encountered anything dark, so how do I know such things really exist to be feared?

I don't. I have no proof. But based on the way I think and act it's clear I believe they exist without it.

Why, then, was it so hard to believe the same sort of things could exist for good? How could I measure something as bad if there was nothing to contrast it against? If I can say a room is dark I must have been exposed to light to know the difference between the two states. Otherwise the room would just be another space; neither light nor dark, but as it was with no consideration on my part that it could be any other way.

That was an important realization for me.

Perspective is an amazing thing. I'm allergic to my cat, so every time I go home I'm miserable until I adjust to being back. My father was in the room one day as I finished sneezing.

"God bless you," he said.
"If he did I wouldn't have this problem."
"If he didn't, you'd be worse."

I still don't know where my statement came from, but Dad's answer stopped me in my tracks. That's how powerful another angle can be.

Lately I've found that if I stop looking at the things I struggle with and look at related ones I don't have problems with I can find more answers than I'd ever been able to find before. This, too, has been an important realization.

Something has happened to me. Something important. Exactly what is hard to explain. I have this faint strength about me that really shouldn't be there right now, and I know it's not coming from me because I've been where I am before. Well, not exactly where I am, but that's part of why I'm so surprised.

I've always known there's a much bigger picture than we see here. It's only in the last week or so that I've realized I'm part of it. There's something else here that's driving things. I've felt like some helpless little pawn in a game I'll never be able to comprehend. I've also felt helped and loosely guided.

So now I've moved from "There may be a god, but I just don't know" to "There is a God, but what do I do with that now that I know?" It's a strange position to be in. I can't decide whether this most important revelation of my life makes me feel helpless or hopeful.

So God, if you find you have time for a very scared, very confused, very lost little girl, she's listening. I know I need help and I won't make it any other way.

Captured At: 820

"Sometimes the best map will not guide you..."

I wish I could say I knew what to do. My life, though simplified in many ways, feels as complicated as ever. I know that where I am is not where I want to be, but I don't know where to go. I can't move toward a destination if I don't know which direction it's in.

The other morning as I readied myself for work the words of a friend came into my head. "It ends well, Rebecca." Granted they were written about the email that contained them, but I could hear that statement so clearly.

And in my heart, in everything I feel and every sense I have, I know that to be true. It does end well.

The problem is getting to the ending. I know I have to put my faith and trust and hope in the right places to make it there, but that's a constant battle I fear I'm losing. I'm not sure I know what's real anymore.

I look at my life up to this point and I see much to be thankful for. I've been lucky in so many ways and that's something I try hard to never take for granted. But at the same time I see so much that needs work and I don't know how to go about fixing it.

I was once told that you go where you look. Unfortunately I have no idea where my gaze is set.

Lately I've been looking to the sky. I've always done that, but it seems I'm doing it more than usual. Yesterday morning I watched the sun find one sliver between the clouds to rise through so it was visible in the haze. I was blown away. I also walked the beach yesterday evening wishing a large wave would take me from where I was standing and absorb me into the landscape. Clearly that wasn't to be as the waves barely touched me.

I can't and won't disappear. That's not what's to be either. For as little direction and guidance as I have right now I know there's something I'm supposed to do. There is a place for me. There is a right. I just don't know what, when or where that is now that my life has changed.

So until I know the answer to those questions I suppose I'll keep stumbling around in the dark and hope I don't bump into too many more pieces of furniture before I find a light that works.

Captured At:1043

"There will never be a day when I won't think of you..."

This morning as I tried to get the dogs to let me sleep I watched the light outside turn from blue to white. Melissa and I went to see the Phantom Movie and all I could hear as I wandered between the back door and my room was "Think of Me". It made me very sad. I've known the song for years, but the timing to have heard it again wasn't ideal.

Before I fell asleep last night I sat down and wrote one of those letters that no one is ever going to see. It was everything I was thinking and feeling and it, too, made me sad. I wonder how many more of those I'll create in my lifetime.

Remember me. It seems a simple request, but as time goes on that's harder to do. I think of the people I've known in my life - people who told me how important I was, how valued I was, how they never would have made it though this or that without me - that have forgotten me. That's what time does. It dulls the memory, changes the stories, and slowly erases names and faces.

I've always been good enough for people when I was doing something for them; when I served some practical purpose as a means to an end. Once that no longer applied I may as well have never existed at all. That's always hurt a lot because I try very hard with the people I care about. I put a lot of myself out there and it never seems to make any difference. In the end it's always me that's tossed aside.

I think of these people often. I wonder how they are and where they ended up. I wonder if life is giving them everything they'd ever dreamed of. I wonder if they've figured out some of the things they needed to learn.

Life is painful for me in many ways. I see and feel in a way I don't tend to encounter in other people. I know who and what I am, and those things keep me from leading the kind of life I watch others my age take part in. That's why it's so easy for them to forget I existed. In the end the good times tend to win out and if I was only there for the crisis I'm tossed aside with the problem. Sometimes I wish I was different, but most days I wouldn't trade being who I am for the world.

The past hurts, the present changes with each second, and the future is so very unknown. In my life the days will go by and I'll continue to think of people and times that have long forgotten I was ever a part of them.

They, on the other hand, will always have a place with me.

Captured At: 919

"But it's only me and I walk alone..."

Circles. That's what really sums up today for me. I walked them around my Aunt's house and the park, drove them around Melbourne, and considered walking more around the complex or on the beach before it got late and I realized getting someplace where I could sleep was a necessity.

I'm in a strange place right now. I know the things that are so clearly on my mind, and as usual they seem to contradict each other. I notice this feeling both in my head and my chest that I can't place. I'm strongly aware of the presence of sensation in both of these areas but am unable to identify it properly. I just feel.

I'm home tonight. Aunt Sandy and Uncle Jon came back early so I spent some time here putting away laundry. Melissa wanted to watch "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", so I found myself stopping at McDonald's on the way to her apartment and making a pitcher of pina coladas before we sat down to watch the show. My mind went a number of places, including to my last post.

Would I erase somebody given the chance? No, absolutely not. There are people and things I've wanted to forget at a given moment in time, but I'm thankful for the memories I have. Even the most painful ones have taught me a great deal in life.

As I look back weeks and months ago I know I wouldn't give those times up. I'm thankful for them. I miss them. I'd go back gladly if I could, but we can't live in the past.

Tonight's moon attracted my attention. It was hiding behind some thick clouds in such a way that it was only illumiating the top and bottom of them. I've always liked when the moon highlights the clouds like that. I can remember watching it do the same thing from the window in my room back in New York on winter nights when I was supposed to be in bed, but drawn from under my covers by the soft, comforting glow.

I miss the peace of moments like those. I was alone, but always content.

I don't think my time of being physically alone outnumbers the time I haven't been anymore, but the feeling of being alone has never quite gone away. It came close once or twice, but nothing lasts forever.

A new day is fast approaching. I will spend part of that walking in circles as well. Sometimes it feels like that's all life is; a series of events that loop themselves around and around again. Of course right now I haven't a clue what else to do with myself. I feel like I'm waiting, but for what I don't even know.

I guess I'll see what answers the morning holds. There's nothing to do now but sleep.

Captured At:2308

New day, old feeling

It's beautiful outside today. January isn't over, but spring is clearly in the air. Feeling that always reminds me of being so much younger than I am now. I remember the excitement of it getting warm again because that meant school would be out soon and I'd have a whole summer in which to rule the neighbourhood.

As has become weekend tradition I walked around the park again today. I may have to stop feeding the birds because they don't seem to like me. The ones behind my building ignore everything I throw if they're there at all, and today one of the ones in the park hit me. That last incident resulted in me dropping half a piece of bread and throwing the other half away in frustration.

I walked a very screwy, but very familiar circle around the park and the lake there. I listened carefully to the wind in the trees and the sound of the leaves, twigs, bark and grass beneath my feet. I stopped on the bridge and spent some time letting the wind find its way around me. There's something magic in those things that has a certain peace to it.

In some big ways my life never really seems to change.

Yesterday morning I watched the sun rise from the 930 position to the 1030 position from my Aunt's backyard. Sydney was running around angry that I wouldn't let her inside, but she was clearly wet from a brief journey into the pool. I watched my bare feet sticking out from the blue and white checkered pajama pants I was wearing as I walked the concrete area around the pool. I sat down on the storage bench and felt the wind blowing the NASA t-shirt I'd been given for graduation. The sun seem brighter than ever, both in the sky and reflecting off the lake.

I sat there both peaceful and sad. Peaceful because really feeling the world can't bring anything but that. Sad because I realized that I was sitting in the sort of moment I'd been trying to prepare for my whole life.

There I was, "grown up" as some people try to tell me. I was outside at a pretty nice house. I was alone. There was nobody around, nobody coming, nobody calling, nobody to be found even if I wanted. "Yes," I thought. "This is clearly what my life is destined to be."

It's a terribly sad thought, but one I'm familiar with. When I looked ahead at my life all I could ever see were sadness and solitude. I didn't see a family or friends. I didn't see a job. I didn't even see where I was. I have those things now, but I lack the belief that they'll last because they never do. In the end it's just me, that wind and that sky.

People don't seem to understand this about me. They seem to look at me and see the person who's laughing and making jokes. They see the person who ruled a campus and convinced twenty other people that making a sandwich out of wood, fabric and chicken wire was a good idea. They see the person whose outward personality made her both loved and loathed by her college professors.

They look at me and they just don't see what I do. No one does. Everyone figures I'm destined for great things. Even at work people I barely know have plans, ideas and expectations. And you know, I could meet everyone of them. I'm sure that I could. But I wouldn't be happy.

What would make me happy? Every time I think I know I end up just as far away from it as when I didn't. Perhaps I'm looking for things that are impossible.

Sometimes, though, impossible is nice to believe in. I walked along the road to my complex and looked down into the ditch and tunnel that carry water under the entrance. When I was little I believed that if I'd take a chance and run through something like that it would take me to a whole other world. It's not possible, but in my mind it didn't matter. I'd run through and I could convince myself I was anywhere.

Now if I could just convince myself of more practical things...

Captured At:1628

"Your words may save me, choose them wisely"

Communication. I see that word today and I immediately think of the "Big Golf Ball" in EPCOT Center. Aside from Figment it was easily my favorite ride, but I'll save the unrelated memories for another day and get off the topic of a place I haven't been to for a while.

~*~*~*~

It's amazing how a concept with such simplicity finds so much failure in its execution. I have never considered the sharing of thoughts, feelings and ideas to be one of my stronger points. When it comes to writing Liz has said that I have the gift of words, but all the eloquent sentences I can mold onto a page make no promise of a successful reception.

The statement was made to me recently that I'm twenty-three, I don't have anything to say. I believe my response was nothing. Point proven? No, I don't think so at all.

It needs to be remembered that successful communication can't be measured in years of talk time, thickness of pages, or digits in a word count. The quantity put out isn't nearly as important as what actually sinks in. There are other more important levels of communication too. Silence and physical presence can have a great deal of power; in some cases the most, as words so often lead the world astray.

We seem to have more ways to communicate than ever right now, yet in so many ways we're starved. No matter how many inventions we create we're still driven by the basic desire to be understood. We want to know that somebody gets us in a real way. Sadly, most of what the world has to offer is a shallow lack of interest in the real character of a person.

With that in mind, what a joy it is to meet some one who can see below the surface; to find a person who understands what is said as well as what is not. A true connection with somebody - be they family, friend or otherwise - is simply amazing.

The key to communication is that it has to be done with two sides - one to share and one to listen. To be most effective in creating understanding these sides have to find a balance of trading places.

Some people we have this relationship with instantly. Understanding flows freely without seeming to require any work. Other people require more frustrating efforts. It's tough to talk to somebody and feel like you're getting nowhere. It's tougher to talk to some one who usually gets you and feel, for whatever reason, that they're not. Fortunately, in the latter case, one good conversation after can often do the trick and the world will be right again.

Incredible.

Captured At:1239