Dreams

Life is life, and it takes attention and work.

These past few weeks I have been waiting to hear some news. I applied to Grad school, mostly on a whim, and mostly in desperation to get somewhere with my life. I applied to only one, big, awesome University, because I felt like if I was going to do this I might as well do it right. Go big or go home, right?

Well, apparently, go home.

I was not accepted, and while I kind of expected this it still was a heartbreak. The rejection threw my life into great relief and for a few days I was panicked and sickened by how seemingly immobile my life was. I have very grand dreams for myself but I have no idea how to get there. I graduated college, which is great, but I am back living at home and working retail and I'm kind of stuck on where to go from here. Sure, there are many options. I could move to a bigger city, I could get a different job, I could take classes and specialize. I could I could I could I could...

I could.

That chant has tormented me for months. In seeking this answer, my next place in the world, I have thought of so many scenarios and so many options and so many better places to go. My head gets dizzy with all the things I've considered. The problem with all of these I coulds though, is that none of them fit. None of them, no matter how beautiful or how tempting, were actually the right choice for me. I know this because none of them felt right. None of them seemed obvious. They were all possibilities brought on by desperation, and desperation really does not make the best choices.

So here I still am.

I did not go to Oxford, or London or New York, or Belgium, or LA, or Chicago. I am still here.

Part of it is reason. It seems reasonable to work up a hefty wad of funds before releasing myself on the world. It seems reasonable to build up my resume.

And it is reasonable. But sometimes heartbreaking.

But then,

I received a good deal of inspiration, from a rather unlikely source, my 18-year-old, fresh from high school coworker. Here is some of what he said:

We only have one life, so why waste time doing something you don't want to do? It's not like we get another chance at this. This is our life. Our only life. So if you want something then go for it. Now. 

And while this can seem obvious and evident, for some reason it really struck me at one in the morning as I was dropping this sage off after work. This really is our only life. This really is IT. So why am I running around looking for something better and more lucrative when I already know what I want to do? Whose life is this? Mine. Then why not make me happy with it?

Therefore I decided that being reasonable was a waste of my time. I will enjoy life and do what I want with it. I will succeed with unreasonable things, like writing and acting. Being tentative and cautious does not serve me, or anybody for that matter. So I will be BOLD and COURAGEOUS (and I will keep my day job because I like to eat). I WILL.

I WILL. I WILL. I WILL.

This is my life and I will make it the life that I want.

It's almost humorous because I graduated high school with this idea but somehow lost it along the way. Life really does bug at you and in college you come across people who have their whole lives figured out, along with a step-by-step plan of how to get there. Those people made me second guess, made me doubt myself. So I shied away from the art I wanted to make and tried to be reasonable and lucrative. But it made me miserable until someone pointed out this mistake. 

So here is my caution: Be attentive to your life. Make sure you always have a handle on what it is you want to be and where it is you are heading. Do not get lost in the expectations of others, for you will only disappoint them and yourself in the process. Do not be afraid of the work it takes to get you where you want to go. It is always worth it. Being scared is a waste of time and energy. Be bold and fearless. Don't get lazy and let your dreams fade. Dreams are real and people fulfill them everyday, so why not you? 

ME

I find it a very interesting thing when people don't know themselves. It seems like it should be the simplest thing in the world. You are you, right? So how can you not know that? You are the only person you have ever been and the only person you are with all the time. And yet... 


I've realized I don't know myself as well as I would like. I think I know what I want in life, and then later I realize that I was wrong. How does that happen? How do you hide from yourself? A person must be quite clever and secretive to be able to pull it off, but yet, it somehow seems it is more the case to not know yourself than to know. 


I realized I did not know myself very well because I avoid thinking about myself in almost any manner. I don't like to think about my looks, about my schedule, about my future plans, about my anticipations, or simply my thoughts on life. I mean, I think (despite some evidence to the contrary), but I never look back on my thoughts retrospectively. I will simply think them and be done. I don't analyze myself. But should you? Do you need to analyze yourself to know yourself? Can't you just be you without putting any effort into it? 


Aha. The effort. There's a key, I guess. Things worth having and being require effort. And I guess you would need to know yourself well in order to change yourself. If you want to be different, improved in some manner, in order to make it stick and get the problem out at its root you need to know how far and where the roots go. Hmm... 


Not that I'm recommending psychoanalysis or anything. This knowing-thyself business has just been a stick lately so I'm working it out. 


Here are some questions I've been trying to answer: 

• What makes me happy? (not including food, Disney, or small plastic toys) 
• If I could be doing anything right now what would I be doing? 
• What is my favorite food really? 
• What is the color that best represents my personality? 
• Am I blaming others for my dissatisfaction in life? 
• Crunchy or smooth? 
• How significant is physical appearance to me? Sometimes I play it off like I don't care at all, but I do at least a little bit. And why is it I care? And why do I react in my unease and anxiety by not taking effort in my appearance? How does looking like a ragamuffin solve my social anxiety? 
• What would be the best news to get right now? 
• Who would I tell first if that best news actually came? 
• Who do I want to go on a trip with, and why? 
• What is my favorite/least favorite chore and why? 

Those are just a few things I've been thinking about lately, not that I've answered them all, but they are making me think and by thinking I think I'm beginning to understand this ME a little bit better. I'm connecting the pieces. 

Here's a Haiku for you

Waitress

Plastic booths. Stale fries

His cold stare cuts in deep

Wish I could go home

A voice...from the deep...It's me! At last!

It has certainly been a while. You probably have been there, twiddling your thumbs, waiting on the edge of your seat for me to be brilliant and endearing, and you were probably thinking I simply had nothing brilliant to say. 


YOU WERE WRONG. 


I do have things to say! Here they are:


Hi. How are you? What are you up to? Me? Not much. (end). 


I know, I know. Life has been a little slow lately, somewhat vague, average, uninteresting, or dull as some have said. A few blips have happened, however. I went on a date once (good food) and I applied for more jobs (starting wage: $7.75/h). 


YAY! 


I graduated college a year ago. Can you believe that? A YEAR AGO. (You probably can believe it. I, however, cannot, despite being the subject of that very grueling and difficult verb: graduated. That is why I keep repeating it. I graduated A YEAR AGO. GRADUATED. ME. GRADUATE...). 
I was kind of hoping to have accomplish something worth while or significant during this time, like--i dunno-- a Pulitzer, lottery win, Disney cruise, or some great career move. But none of those things have happened (maybe I should buy a lottery ticket). 


But. It's ok. 
I promise. 
I have done other things, that, ultimately and seen through a prudential light, may turn out to have been worth my time. 


I NANNY! 


That's right, folks. I watch the wee ones of successful people while they go off and be successful or go on lunch dates with their girlfriends. I am paid so people can eat! 


It's just fine, because watching kids is pretty much second nature to me and the kids themselves are more or less absolutely adorable, so it works. I've been watching 2-year old triplets lately and they are a riot. Once one of them gets started they all want in. Someone decides shoes are a good idea then they're all screaming and sitting trying to get their parents's shoes to stay on their feet. Or one decides she doesn't like her shirt and therefore takes it off. The boys look at her in wonder then realize the genius of it. Yeah! Why are we even wearing shirts!? And have you tried pushing a triplet stroller? My arms look amazing. 


So. Yeah. I think that's it for now. Just wanted to remind you that I'm still here. Being brilliant. 


(GRADUATED).

Snow!

Ladies and gentlemen, it has SNOWED, finally. And in celebration I went on a shooting spree. I don't claim to be a photography, and none of these pictures are edited, which testifies to the gorgeousness of the day. 

The ever adorable King's English played host to a marriage proposal today. Absolutely fantastic. And she said yes (how could you not?) 

A lamp post standing next to a bunch of wheat. Straw, hay? I'm not sure. Something that should be on a farm of some sort. I liked this picture, though, because the tree and the wheat (?) make it very textured, which is nice in a picture with a limited palette. 

We still had some apples on the tree. They are a little gushy though, so no eating, ok?  

 Don't you just love it!? I think I love taking pictures in the winter so much because there is always a high contrast. The snow and sky are always light, and everything else is so dark it almost looks like a silhouette. The many clouds also soften the light, making it delicate. Just gorgeous. 

 I love this shot, because of the tall center tree, and the difference between each side of the frame, the light and dark, bright and purplish. Lovely. 

 On the street where I live. *sigh

Our trampoline could use some springs, huh? It is kind of a random picture, but something about the composition grabs me. Maybe it's the large blank space of snow, and the various fields of depth. I dunno. Maybe it's just the memories. 

Books ending

I've just finished reading a book (American Gods by Neil Gaiman) and it's put me into a thoughtful mood. 


When I read book I read them, allowing my whole self to become absorbed into the words. Have you ever thought about that imagery? Absorbed? Like my fingers stick to the pages, then melt into the pages and the rest of me follows. Time fades, sensations fade, noise fades and I lose myself and there is only the story.


It feels like diving, in a way. I get submerged and it takes thought and effort to swim to the surface and become aware again of the real world and things I should be doing in it. When I'm there for hours the submersion so total that my sensory to the outside world is completely blocked. 


Then when the story ends, abruptly, suddenly (because I've been reading the words, not noticing the thinning stack of pages against my right hand) the real world and the story world collide jarringly. The sounds and the textures of the story have filled me so completely and when the characters are ripped from existence there is a silence like no other silence I have experienced. Even though I haven't been making a sound for hours the quiet is now eerie and sharp and expansive. It's like an inhale of breath, it's a void that used to be full of so much noise. It leaves a ringing echo, when the book closes. I had so much and inexplicably it's all gone and I am left lonely and cold. 


I am a reader, if you haven't guessed. I love stories. They are timeless and seem to inhabit a negative space. Stories can do amazing things yet they live on printed pages and in finite space. You can go there, become wholly changed, yet return to find everything exactly as you left it, only now all the meanings have changed. Is it strange that they can do that? Is it strange that we can do that?


Go read a story. Go make a story.  

Kentucky

It has been quite a while. I have spent a good amount of the interim time in Kentucky. There's so much that happened there that I'm not sure where I want to begin. So I suggest you read my friends blog because she talks about a lot of what we got up to, plus a good portion of the pictures are mine. So instead of redoing it all and waiting a kajillion years for my slow internet to upload photos, just check it out. 

I will add these photos though. They are from the Lexington cemetery which is well known for its landscaped beauty. It was a gorgeous fall day and everything looks so enchanting. 

A lot of the headstones  were large and intricately carved. Some of them were old and worn to illegibility. 

This one is a little cherub asleep on a stone, and the moss has come creeping in on it.