rush.

Hello, again.



November is drawing me away from my running, busy, rush of a life and into her rainy cold arms. I go willingly. The thrilling blue that was the sky today is beautiful in so many ways, but it is the rain that makes me sigh.

Leaving work on Monday, the steeple of the church in Lawrenceville's downtown square was masked by the frigid mist. It looked absolutely like a photograph, and it won my heart. I want rain for days straight, until my fingers are wrinkled and my hair is curling with all the freezing cold wetness in the air. I crave more of those gray skies, with low mist engulfing all our buildings. We'll be walking in clouds, breathing white and swirling breaths in front of our faces; we'll be damp, cold, and rained on, but I will be so at home.

Because sometimes my heart just asks for rain, and will have no substitute.
In Georgia, this is a predicament for obvious reasons.


And so, when two days of bitter cold precipitation drifted down from the shrouded skies, I got a taste of what I didn't know I wanted. Now I want more.

Although, I will say,
today was glorious. November, altogether, is wonderful.

Now. I have a sentence or two to toss into the pile of inconclusive thoughts.


I have become so well-acquainted with this life I've been living since September. Within the first week of that month, I was officially taking all my classes and starting my new job, in addition to all the familiar things of church, family, dating, and friends. Suddenly, I was leaving my house at seven in the morning and getting home at eleven PM. I have wanted to fall apart more than once; everything changed so much, so fast, or so it felt. But I've kind of come to be on good terms with this busyness. I sleep enough, I eat enough, I don't cry alone in my car every day- I am alright. But somehow, as old questions find answers, my heart finds new questions.

I wonder if I have forgotten how to be still.

I've been home tonight with my family, just doing whatever. We ate and watched a movie, and I wandered up into the kitchen to do the dishes. Once that was done, I found myself pacing the hardwood floors, turning over possible to-do lists in my head. Homework was the obvious choice, but I wanted to let myself rest a little. I wobbled back and forth between "restful options" for like, ten minutes. Somehow, that didn't feel like relaxation. Somewhere in me, some little administrative assistant was chanting things about how I can't just go to sleep for eleven hours, and I shouldn't just eat dessert whenever I feel like it, and what's the point in taking a hot bath when I have so many things that I should be addressing, or doing, or solving? I bought new stationery, but I can't sit still enough to write on it. I have shelves of good books, but all my mind wants to talk about is how I should be doing something productive or "good for me."

Altogether, it is a very overwhelming chorus of seemingly well-meaning ideation experts who all seem to know exactly what I should and should not do.

I wonder, also, if I have forgotten how to seek community.

There is a line from an Azure Ray song appropriately entitled "November" that goes like this,
"I was afraid to be alone, but now I'm scared that's how I like to be."

I think that's how I feel sometimes. It's no good, my beloved audience, and do you know why? Because both ways, I end up filled with fear. I'm either "afraid to be alone," or "scared that's how I like to be."

But what if it is how I like to be? It's an intimidating thought, you know?

So many things press in on my heart and mind these days, and always. And I know it's not just me. I know that human experience is all at once both commoner and more diverse than we think. Because everyone has felt alone, or scared, or has loved the cold November rain- but not everyone finds the same answers at the ends of their questions. We connect, but we are not the same.


And so, these are my questions, my unfinished thoughts. Thank you if you've read this far. I have a lot of words in me tonight.


Little Things of Happiness:

1. Leaf cyclones, and the wind. I smile at them all the time. The wind feels so playful in cold weather.

2. Red sprinkles on top of whipped cream and hot coffee. It's good for you.

3. Mornings. Once I am on my way toward living the day, I enjoy them very much. Before that, eh. Who likes that feeling, anyway?


This computer is hungry, and I'm headed for hot chocolate of some variety, I think, so I think I'll be done for now.

Sleep sweetly, world. Thank you, again, for looking in on my unfinishedness. Don't forget, you can always comment... :)

follow your bliss.

I have to admit, I have been reluctant to show my face here.


Days pile on top of days piling on top of me and my words, and I get lost in the shuffle of it all. It is not a shimmery business, this writing thing. Sometimes it feels like owning a very personable animal. When you take it daily to walk with you, to experience the life that you experience, it is well-mannered and pleasureable. The silent conversations between the two of you will be easy and intrinsically understood. If, however, you stop having time for these walks and conversations, your playmate will become flighty and unpredictable. One moment, she's by your side, and, in the middle of a sentence, she'll suddenly be gone, as though she has decided not to exist. But while she's busy not-existing, you're on hands and knees at the scene of her immaterialization, frantically searching out the sidewalks for a trace of her.

She may or may not fly back to you.

Probably, if you wait, she'll come around in the end.


So, that, friends, is the precarious position in which I choose to place myself for the sake of words strung together on a computer screen.

Why?



I saw a movie tonight called August Rush.

I'm not even sure where to begin. So much of the story in this film echoes around in the spaces of my heart. Before it was even over, I trusted it to be one of my very favorite movies, second only to The Village. It was a fairytale, a true story and a love story. I can usually recognize a good movie by how involved I feel while I'm watching it. It is so rare to watch something and feel literally as though your insides are on the edges of their seats. It wasn't suspense, really, so much as it was just that I cared about what would happen to these people on the screen. So often, I'll realize somewhere halfway through the movie that I don't really care anymore. Who lives, who dies, who gets married, or who gets thrown into a pit of leeches- it all just feels meaningless. I'm not involved. But with a really good movie, I can feel the very center of me being all wound up and tangled with the concerns and causes of the characters on screen. It feels kind of like having your fists clenched, internally.

This is how I felt during August Rush. I want to explain why, but I really, really just want you to see it. It will hopefully make clear to you the feeling I'm talking about, while also answering the question I asked earlier- why on earth do I keep writing?

Why did my dad leave a well-paid job that he really liked to be a not-so-well-paid music minister at a church?
Why did my mom home school her three children when it would have made so much more sense not to?
Why do I believe so truly in a person I cannot see?

So. It's a beautiful movie. Go see it. And then report back to me with thoughts.


Other than this,

1. It's raining. I wish it would do so for fourteen days straight.

2. It's November. I can't believe how quickly time urges us forward. I wish it were colder. I love this month. I want to be married in a November.

3. I just wrote 4. instead of 3. I need sleeping. Much sleeping. Hooray for holidays! I still have to work on Saturday though. I'm a big fan of paychecks, though, so I'll refrain from my complaining.

4. Happy Thanksgiving. Not turkey-day. Some people eat ham. I am not one of them, but it's always prudent to remember the less fortunate.

5. Lalo is singing goodnight songs to me. He is saying, "Please, either talk to me or turn out the lights, babycakes. I can't be listening to you type all night long." Coincidentally, this song sounds quite similar to the, "Get up, dang it!" song, and also the "I'm in love with you! Forsake your boyfriend and fly away with me for all eternity!" song. He is a very expressive bird.


So, those are my words for tonight. Goodnight world. I wish for days when writing here will be weekly again, you know? I miss you all.