I'm Giving Myself 20 Minutes Tonight...

We were standing outside shortly after midnight in a parking lot that hasn't seen me draped with darkness in years. Due east a bright orange speck captured my attention as it sat perched on the edge of my constellation. The street lights played tricks with my eyes that made it appear to be moving and we joked about it shooting down the helicopters that passed overhead. "I really think it's Mars, though," I said.

Later research would show that it was, and over the course of the next several days it would attract my attention with magnetic force. I've had to fight to pull my eyes away. That little dot trapped in my gaze is a whole other world. It's where we're going. One day there will be people there too.

The other thing I realized is how long it has been since I really spent time looking at the sky. Granted I admired the gold of sunrise from the 13th room of the 13th floor in an insanely expensive hotel on several occasions last week, but for me it's not quite the same. I have never been the morning. Moonlight suits me like little else.

Again I have been reminded how important it is to keep doing the things that make me who I am. I feel like I let too much steal my November away. I've been working hard and have much to be proud of, but I never stopped to clear my head. All of the good I had been doing for myself got lost somewhere in the shuffle of travel and work and classes. Now it's December and I have no idea what to do.

This is a very strong time of year; one that hits me unlike any other. I drove home drenched in memories wondering if I'll ever get Christmas back in a way that resembles how I once had it. Maybe one day the love of the holiday will find me again.

As I close out tonight and head to sleep (final be damned), I have to smile to myself again knowing that I had the best kind of day. One where I worked hard but still admired my world. One where I loved and cried, laughed and remembered, and made the world feel like a better place for somebody other than myself. It may not be in quite the sense most would consider worthwhile, but I know that today I lived. There are few better ways to drift off to sleep than that.

Captured At:2137

Another Off the List

I tried to follow the rules. I asked if I was allowed to walk around a little as long as I didn't go up. They told me yes, so off I went.

Trucks and vans drove by periodically as I wandered alone around the perimeter. Outside the fence a crowd had come to snap their own pictures. "Crew Guests" the sign on the buses said.

Shortly after I started walking back a truck drove up behind me. I knew it wasn't good when he pulled onto the mound. Yep. Security. Somebody told them there was a person walking around taking pictures. Apparently, despite having asked and gotten an okay, I wasn't actually allowed to do that.

"Just start heading back," the nice security guy told me. "You can take a couple more on the way."

I would later come to find out that my new buddy in security wants copies.

Sometimes I think it's a miracle I still have a badge...

It was worth it, though. I think this might be the prettiest spaceship I've ever seen.

Captured At: 109

'Tis the Season...

It is amazing to me that in about a week my family will be returning for Christmas once again. Time really does move that fast, especially when a schedule like mine is tossed into the mix. It's amazing I'm standing as solid as I am right now.

For a holiday that I was mourning the loss of, Christmas seems to slowly be finding its place within me again. I won't say it's entirely back, but I'd never been as happy to hear a Christmas carol as I was when I finally made it back to church a week ago. It helped me remember what the season is really about.

One of those things for me has always been family. I have been given more time with my sister recently than we've had together in a long time. It doesn't matter if it was while crossing items off those shopping lists or studying on adjacent couches in her living room. Each span of hours has been wonderful.

And, as has become tradition, an evening of cookie decorating made its way into a crazy year's end. Maybe this won't be so tough after all...

Captured At:1553

But a Speck of Dust Against Infinity's Magnificent Canvas...

I knew the kiss of the air the moment I cracked open my front door to leave for work. Somewhere in the previous thirty-six hours a cold front had found its resting place over central Florida, and he was now begging me to take notice of him.

Mornings like that are never without conflict. Do I smile softly at the memories, or do I cry out in anger that my chosen climate has deserted me?

"Feels like home," I thought while locking the door. I noted the absence of anything resembling a jacket and was suddenly glad for my excursion north. I never would have been prepared for the chill of 40 degree temperatures without the hop to New York several weeks ago.

Sensations of that trip joined me on the commute, their effect further intensified by the same soundtrack that framed my frozen morning tour. The cold had penetrated my bones as I wandered parks and schoolyards to capture pieces of a past that often feels a lifetime away. I live more in "today" than I have at possibly any other point in the last twenty-six and a half years. Right now it feels like a positive change.

In some ways, though, I'm at a loss. I don't look at it much, but I know there still exists a raft of things I cannot see or understand. Somewhere inside a voice tells me to have patience; that I'm not there just yet and the time will come. Progress is often slower than we accept.

Long after the last traces of sunlight would have vanished from those New York skies I drove home in awe of the panorama blanketing the west. I hadn't seen those colors take to the clouds that way in years - perhaps not since the day I first moved into this little apartment. My soul drank the scene so deeply that my eyes couldn't soak in enough to keep it satisifed, and after miles of chasing it I finally pulled over and admitted defeat. I was lost in the heavens, floating gently somewhere between the molten orange and soft lavender.

Throughout this dance in the clouds part of me wondered (as it always does) whether anybody else had cast their eyes skyward and seen the same things I had. Something told me yes, and that I had been thought of in spirit if not by name. Though we rarely meet on this side of it, I have no doubt that those of us enraptured by the sky are somehow aware of each other's existence.

Captured At:1846

My apartment feels quiet this morning as I lounge in the papasan and survey my sleeping quarters from a different angle. In the other room my brother is still dozing on a couch I am amazed could accommodate him comfortably. He seems so much bigger than I remember - a giant next to his big sister who never quite grew up. The goatee is gone (I'm sure to the satisfaction of some), but his hair is the longest I've seen it. Naturally his friends and girlfriend approve; it's those who remember a more clean cut kid that mourn the invisibility of the handsome young man they know he grew into. I imagine that being the youngest and the only boy is not without its share of challenges, especially given who he ended up with as sisters.

He stirs slightly and rolls over as I get breakfast in surprise at my hunger. If there's any bit of consciousness about him it's probably protesting a return to the woken world.

I, too, fought the loss of my dreams. I think I believed that if I could stay in them just a little longer my subconscious eyes would open enough to let me see fully what I knew shared the "forbidden" room I had nervously walked into. I remember the boxes and how it looked like somebody was packing to leave, yet there were still pictures on the shelves that I leafed through in a total violation of privacy. The last thing I remember before waking is throwing my arms around a very confused man while bursting into tears.

More interesting than this ghost from the past was a sequence in which I was given a very complex explanation of...something. And it's not surprising that I cannot remember what given that the only words I remember being spoken to me were, "But the human mind cannot understand this.". Then they gave me full awareness, and I both watched and felt my brain overload to the point of explosive shutdown.

I wasn't surprised. This world remains so far beyond my understanding that sometimes I am certain I will drive myself mad trying to piece it together.

It's the day before Christmas. Thoughts, emotions, dreams like that should be a million miles away. They're not. I am surrounded by loving people I have known my entire life, yet I only feel more lost in the crowd as I get older. It's hard to engage when your own mind is seeped in questions and memories as it churns over the life you've been handed. I don't seem to push through very well and I know they all can see it.

But it's time to stop hiding in my room for today. There are things to be done, celebrations to be had, and sleepy brothers to bring back to life. The world stops for no one.

But maybe I'll actually get out to find the stars tonight and can pretend like it had...

Captured At: 953

To a home on God's celestial shore...

Yesterday's white Christmas was not one in the traditional sense. It seems that in Florida the sky turns white instead of the ground, blanketing the world in a cloudiness that matches the one in my head this time of year. It allows for no visible sunrise and, worse for my best hoped plans, no stars.

Naturally I was glad to see the clouds had broken for an after dinner walk. I'm told the sunset was beautiful, but I couldn't see it.

"I don't think I'm going to get what I wanted for Christmas," he said. I ventured a guess as to what it was and apologized that the world wasn't falling into the shape he had hoped for.
"I understand. I haven't gotten what I wanted for Christmas in years."
"And what's that?"
"Something different..."

The clear skies as we drove away told me I needed to get myself to the beach. I stopped home to drop off my passenger and change clothes, and then set out into the night again. I passed the first of the usual stops and continued north to find the parking lot of the second just as deserted. Although there were no cars in sight I could clearly see two people sitting around a tiny light in the pavilion. This gave me pause to consider my own safety. Christmas is not the time to let one of your family's worst fears for you be realized.

We acknowledged each other with a "hey" as I walked past them to the landing of the two staircases. The outgoing tide was painted in soft moonlight and I could pick out several constellations from the clear winter sky over my head. It was everything I hoped to see, but didn't carry the sense with it I had hoped for.

The crashing of the waves drowned out most of the music from the two strangers at the picnic table. I turned my back on the ocean to watch them play and slowly moved closer to hear them better. Other groups of friends came and went, most ignoring the impromptu concert. I spent hours as an audience of one perched on the opposite table as these guys played bluegrass into the night - first just the two of them, then three after their guitarist arrived. They introduced themselves and made some small talk, but I could tell that once they began playing the entire world disappeared. I was content to fade away with it.

I listened to the trio until sleepiness and dropping temperatures won out, thanked them, and walked down the ramp past two other visitors. "Merry Christmas," said one. "Merry Christmas," I smiled, "you two have a great night."

From the top of the causeway I could see fog had settled into my sleepy town. It wasn't actually Christmas Day anymore, but that didn't matter. For a few moments something about the world felt like it was, and I knew that for the first time in years I had been given a Christmas that would stick with me. Somehow I had gotten exactly what I wanted.

Captured At:1459

Let's Forget We're Running Out of Time...

My aunt once told me a story about the first time she explained New Year's Eve to me. She put it in simple terms: We celebrate because the old year is going away and we get a new one in its place. I was young enough that I don't remember this exchange, but I suspect there was no way to predict the reaction this information would produce from her oldest niece. Not only did I immediately break down into a fit of tears, but I'm told it took an hour to get me to stop crying. I liked the old year and I didn't want it to go away.

The weight of New Year's lifted some as I got older, but I don't believe I have ever seen it the way most people do. The accepted spirit of the holiday and all that go with it never got their hooks into me. At the end of 2004 I remember a friend saying I should be going out to celebrate somewhere; that only losers spend the stroke of midnight on January 1 alone. I thanked him for those words of encouragement, which were especially nice to hear since those were exactly my plans. They're always my plans.

Given all of this, it comes as a complete surprise that I find myself optimistic about 2008. I have no doubt it will provide me with ample opportunities to eat those words now that I've said them, but I cannot change how I feel. Time will tell how much of a wide-eyed fool I was. It always succeeds in doing so.

From where I sit tonight, 2007 feels like it ended before it started. One minute I was cursing angrily about the New Year's fireworks being set off by celebrating neighbours, the next I was giving a toast at my sister's wedding. I started classes, started running, made and lost new friends, bounced across the country, stopped running, and worked hard in every way possible to see positive results. When I finally crumpled it was only because I was forced to stop and see just how much I had been carrying before bouncing back to do it all again.

I also learned that while my life is by no means full or complete, and while some part of me will always be in mourning, I am truly blessed that I still know how to be alive. I know how to find happiness and share that happiness and recognize those people who need a taste of it most. I still know how to press pause and will still go out of my way to find those moments when I can. I can still be alone and feel like all is right with the world. And I can still steal little pieces of it like this:

I still believe my life is bittersweet and not for the faint of heart, but the rewards of toughing it out are exceptional. Maybe that's why I'm able to look forward tonight with hope instead of backward with a sense of loss. I don't expect anything major to be different, but I don't expect it not to be either.

Originally I had planned not to see 2007 slip away into the black, but I think I've changed my mind. I have a vision of the pier by my tree and a silhouette perched at the end dangling her feet over the water. That sounds like a far nicer end than a flood of tears or inhaling sleeping pills so I don't curse the neighbours like I did as the year began...

Captured At:2257