Starting Again...

Mondays seem to get the short end of the stick as far as weekday reputations go. Mondays that mark the return of everyone to work or classes after a long vacation are met with even more loathing. Monday is not known for being a good day.

When I reach a low or encounter an all-too-familiar unpleasant state it is not uncommon for me to grumble in frustration. "Why do I always end up here?" I often ask. "Why does it always just more of the same?"

Why, I wonder, does the opposite not hold true?

Today I have changed that. Today I wonder why it is that the good and amazing things in this world continue to find me. How is it fair that I get so many days that, on the whole, are good?

From the moment I woke up this morning I had reinforcement from some of the wonderful people I consider friends that I am loved. Sometimes I am still taken back a bit by the things I hear from others about who they see me to be. One that hit me especially strong was a statement that in the long run everything is working to make me "into something so much greater and stronger than most of us mere mortals can ever aspire to be". Um...wow. That's awfully high praise to be sent in the direction of somebody as flawed and in need of work as I am. Still, it isn't a bad way to begin a Monday.

Kind words aside, this morning was simply amazing. I was on sensory overload long before I flashed my badge at the gate. After making my first turn I immediately spotted a rainbow stretched across one of the clouds. I watched it darken, lighten, expand and fade out as I drove north along the river. My eyes opened so wide in joyful wonder that I could feel them beaming. Rainbows always light me up on the inside.

Further up the road I passed Harvey's Groves and got even higher on the citrus tree scent dashing through the open window. The balance it struck between perfumed and fruity was blissfully pleasing. It made me realize how much I've been missing living with the windows up. The weather outside was almost ideal, and the angle of the sun at the 8am point in its ascension casts one of my favorite shades of yellow on the world. It seemed like everything was glowing. I think I was too.

I loved the smiling faces I got to see again, too. These people help make my world what it is and God only knows where I would be without them. What's more, I love being one of the smiling faces for them. There are few better feelings than watching somebody light up when they see you, though I daresay I would never tell any of them they do it.

The temptation on a day that feels as good as today did is to declare my desire that I always ride this kind of high. Fortunately I'm at least smart enough to know what a mistake that would be. Life is in the bumps in the road. I don't believe we could appreciate the good nearly as much if it were all we ever saw and experienced. For now, though, I am content to keep beaming because somehow, once again, the world feels like a pretty good place to be.

Captured At:2358

Sometimes the Darkness is Your Friend...

New semester, new year, new beginning. Each brings with it the promise of change; some for better, some for worse, and some just change. This fact finds new meaning as the world returns to a familiar routine. If the past few weeks are any indication, it will be an interesting year indeed.

There's a running trail outside my building at work. This mile or so of path snaking around the north parking lot of the O&C has often become an escape when I need to clear my head. When I decided to make the walk to the car longer than necessary tonight it became my method of pressing pause on life. This decision allowed me extra minutes with some of the things I love most: a clear night sky with a sprinkling of stars, time for reflection, and awed silence in the ghostly peace of the space center after hours.

Some days are more talking than actual, quantifiable work. I flowed from one conversation to the next after I left the lab, and the subject matter of each seemed to steer the same direction by the end. When it comes to guessing the future I don't do too badly with some things. With me it's impossible. My hope is that when I get there and look back I feel like I did something worthwhile with my time; that I made a real contribution and a real difference.

People have sizable expectations when it comes to what I will do with my life. Their expression of the amount of potential they see in me is a huge and humbling compliment. I have concluded that one of my greatest challenges will be to keep myself from obtaining somebody else's dream instead of discovering and chasing after my own.

Of course, stars and sunsets aside, chasing was never really my method of going through life. I worried about the now, did what needed to be done, and things seemed to find me. As I was told today, life doesn't come with a guidebook. The answers aren't magically there for reference at the tough times. That leaves me no surer of how to choose between two paths I'm not confident I could be happy on without components of the other than I was when I started

I have been told I am on a pretty cool journey. More is unknown than known. Things change frequently. There is too little stability for the comfort of most. I, however, thrive in this environment. And while it may be the road slightly less traveled, it doesn't preclude me from visiting a different world if I change my ever-moving mind later.

As I rounded the turn to the backside of the running trail I found myself face to face with total blackness. Tress and bushes blocked out the dim streetlights leaving me unable to make out where the path actually was. Fear froze me in place and told me to go back. Stubbornness returned motion to my legs. As I stepped slowly around the foliage it occurred to me that this seemingly minor event was the perfect picture of where my life is.

The remainder of the walk was uneventful: a few smiles at the stars, several glances at a distant VAB glowing behind the tress, and the occasional accidental step off the path into the grass. There is definitely something to be said for not going directly from point A to point B all the time. If I can apply that methodology to more than my pedestrian adventures, I should be in good shape.

Captured At:2340

Shangrila

I was going to write a real post tonight, but I have decided otherwise. I have spent far too much time today living new, fictitious moments inside environments both real and old, and I'm so lost in the sounds of the night that words are not piecing themselves together as I wish. These things my mind does sometimes make me wonder how the world hasn't deemed me certifiably crazy.

My head is a hauntingly magical place to be tonight. It drifts gently while tirelessly churning on things I'm not consciously aware of yet. Contented but also sad, lost in chords and memories as another day fades to its end. The week is at a close, the whole year about to hustle by.

But it all stops when I gaze at the thin crescent moon in the sunset. I then know without question that life remains heartbreakingly beautiful, and that these eyes which can see it are a privilege to own. There is only so much a picture can do.

Captured At:2115

In a World Full of People Only Some Want to Fly...

We were standing in the parking lot (rambling as we often seem to) when the topic of conversation turned heavy. How things twisted I don't know, but suddenly I was reliving one of the most challenging situations from my college career. The reflection of neon in the puddles carried my mind away as every remembered thought and emotion took up an almost physical residence in my body. I did what I thought was right at the time and the outcome fell on the positive side of the line, but in that moment standing on the damp pavement it was still very real for me. It's amazing the things we can carry through life without realizing it.

The train of talk continued down the track to events with less desirable outcomes. I learned things I didn't know of the how's and why's, and I wished I could take that knowledge with me back in time for just two minutes. I don't expect it would have changed much for long, but at least I could have communicated that I understood; that I know what it all feels like and how difficult it is. Encouragement is a necessary ingredient for life. We all need to know that somebody gets it and we are not as alone as we may feel.

As I considered this person nobody had been able to save I was struck by how unfair life is. That thing I have that somehow keeps me going despite the troubles of the world...how come they didn't get that too? Why am I surviving, succeeding and continuing on when they aren't? How is it fair that my story will be one of overcoming when theirs ended too soon?

These are the kinds of questions I ask that I know will never get specific answers. There isn't a person I could seek out on this earth who could explain why some of us have hope, strength and the belief we could be something more ingrained within our being while others do not. Like it or not, some things will always fall beyond understanding.

More than anything, this makes me realize how precious my life is. The mystery of how and why I am who I am could have given me a very different story had just one little thing been different. That's incredible to me. Hopefully I will learn where others before me have failed, and maybe by doing so I can show somebody else the way. I'd like to believe that anybody can make it; they just have to truly wish to succeed.

Captured At:1656

A Little Unwell

Late last week I was actually directed to take sick leave. Disappearing for two days without being able to cite an actual ailment didn't sit well with me, but I followed orders anyhow. "You're of no use to anybody if you don't get some rest," they had said, and somewhere inside I knew they were right.

Right now, on the eve of my return to the "real world", I feel less useful than I did before I left.

There are things you forget as time passes. Some of them never come back. Others reappear with little warning. Tonight, for example, it was the comfortable feel of a worn pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt. For a moment I was certain I was walking across the high school parking lot after a winter track meet instead of toward Milo for a visit to the beach. It seems the world continues to enjoy playing tricks on me.

Another unexpected reappearance was the awareness of just how difficult communication between two people can be. My presence as one of those parties apparently complicates the matter tenfold. I speak in riddles and circles thinking I've made a point that just doesn't come across. "You are a very frustrating woman" has become a common utterance in my direction this year. How on earth am I supposed to build relationships when nobody understands what I'm saying?

Sometimes I wonder if I've done such a good job convincing myself I'm crazy that I actually have gone mad.

And, as usually happens when I can't take it anymore, I ran. Again I found the high tide glowing under full moonlight. I stood on the deck and let the wind batter me with everything it had. I found my wings and rode the currents through the clear sky. Though I shivered in the chill, it was one of the most incredible sensations I have ever felt. I wished the breeze could dissolve this body that keeps my spirit tied to the silly world I keep getting lost in.

Times like these are when I should be most thankful for the people I have who stick by me as I go through them. I'm stubborn and frustrating and not always very forthcoming, but somehow they can look past those attributes to see the ones worth sticking around for. I really don't deserve it, but I'm glad they're there. I guess that's really what friendship is about.

Captured At:2257

My favorite thing about hosting meetings at the KSC beach house is how isolated it feels from the rest of the world. The time spent in those marathon sessions seems more relaxed and more productive than anywhere else we go. For some it's watching the waves from their spot at the conference table that does it. For me it's the feel of the place as I spend quality time with some of the most comfortable furniture I have ever had the pleasure of flopping onto.

Thursday morning before the session started I put in my earphones and walked out to the beach. I wandered away from the others in the group who had chosen to start their morning by the ocean and found a place where I could sit down to watch the sunlight shimmer on the water. Half of my bagel was gone when a coworker came up on my right side and started quietly singing, "Yes I am a pirate, 200 years too late..."

"So how ya doin'?" he asked when he finished.
"Okay, I guess." I'm not sure what prompted it, but I went on to tell him about how amazing it is that all of the things I feel much of the time seem to disappear when I get moments like that to sit outside. "It always makes me want to melt into them so I never have to worry anymore and just get to be at peace."

That afternoon the lunch break came before the food arrived. He and a few of the others used the time for an informal beach cleanup. Again I wandered away, this time until I could barely see them anymore. They had all disappeared by the time I started back. Having an entire stretch of coastline to myself awoke the part of me that loves to play. I drew in the sand, skipped and twirled just out of reach of the water, rode the wind, charged the waves and raced the surf. There is incredible freedom in being able to forget the world and know nothing but simple joy.

Somewhere in this I spotted my coworker cleaning the beach alone and went over to him. "You're having too much fun," he laughed.
"No such thing. Besides, it's good for you. Put the bag down for a second and come here..." I pulled him closer to the water and turned him south to face the sun. "Now, close your eyes. Put your arms out, relax, and just feel it."

I'm not sure he enjoyed participating as much as he had enjoyed watching, but he humored me anyway. Later, when I caught him whistling, I made sure to point out that his minute playing lizard in the sunlight had done him good.

Friday was more serious. As everyone else relaxed in the house with food and drinks we were again walking up the beach. I don't remember what I said, but I know it was a very honest admission of doubt and fear. After a few exchanges he stopped walking. "Rebecca, listen to me..." he began. He dreaded to call it the voice of experience, but there was no more appropriate term for this man over twice my age to use as he laid out all of the things he wanted me to understand. None of it was new, but it seems to be taking its sweet time to truly sink in. I still can't always accept that I won't have my answers for years.

Back at the beach access two more coworkers had appeared. "I can't help it," he said when they looked at the junk in his hands. "I come out here and think it's far too pretty of a place to be covered with this."
"I know," one of the others replied. "That's why I bring you."

He shook his head and continued walking toward the trash can. As I watched him go I fought to keep my mouth shut. I wanted nothing more than to look at the others and make one point very clear: "You may pick on him," I would say, "But that man is a far better friend to me than I deserve."

Upstairs I discovered the beach house had emptied out significantly during the walk. Our group had worked, relaxed, celebrated and left. No trace was left behind when we locked the door for the last time. Not even a bec-sized indentation on the big red couch.

Captured At:2355