Oh, how wonderful it feels to be here again.
It has been too, too long.
Okay, so it's been over a month since I've written here. Let's not dwell on this. If it were up to me to decide how many hours a week I could devote to the written word, it would be probably more reading than you'd ever want to keep up with. And although perhaps the current way of things is less-than-desirable, at least you're always wanting more.
That's the hope, anyway.
Although, sometimes I feel like when people are facebooking me with words like, "hey, write a blog," it is more for my sake than for the general audience's. It's like, my heart is telling me always, "write, write! every day and always! write!" But when someone who is not my heart tells me this, it is not only encouraging, it's like an out-loud confirmation of what my insides are saying at all times. And when I ignore both the external and the internal prompts for more than a couple of days, I get into trouble. My interior landscape becomes like an unkempt college dorm- too small, piled high with papers and information, and buried in weeks-old laundry. This is an undoubtedly bad way to be.
This is how I am beginning to feel.
And so, I come gasping back to the place where I can breathe again. I volunteer to lay both hands firmly on the squalid mess and begin to bring order to the space in my heart.
It's just that there is so much else to do.
And it is difficult to be intentional about resting. More difficult than almost anything else, really. I lean so heavily toward filling up every moment to its greatest point of efficiency, and it is difficult to view sleeping in or journaling as an efficient or necessary tasks. Anyway. Here I am.
This past weekend I went to Oglethorpe University to compete for their two full-ride scholarship programs, James Edward Oglethorpe and Civic Engagement. I had a wonderful, wonderful time! The competing part was repetitive, fast-paced, and slightly nerve-wracking, but the staying-all-weekend-with-friends-on-campus was lovely. I did not sleep enough to compensate for all of the people-meeting, essay-writing, self-promoting, interviewing, and campus-touring that I took part in, but I managed to make it through just fine. I met so, so many people, and it seemed like I asked the same questions at least a thousand times- "So, what do you want to major in?" and "Do you think you'll end up at OU?" and, of course, the ever-present, "Where are you from?"
But in that process, I made the kinds of friends that are perfect for weekends at colleges; the non-committal acquaintances that keep you company during long lectures from panels of people you have to smile at all day long. There is really nothing like the overall experience, and I actually liked it very much.
Now, for the scholarship.
I find out the results in about three weeks. Until then, I hope and pray.
I have been thinking a lot about the actual moving out, moving in process of going to college. The whole concept of packing my world into boxes and bringing it to a new place is both thrilling and saddening in my head. I wonder if I will be as alone as I feel I will be. I wonder if I can take anyone with me when I jump into university-styled living, if I can keep my best friends and my boyfriend or if they will be surrendered as the cost of such great change. At first you think, "of course you can keep them, Annie girl, don't be silly." But then factor in the no-cell-service-on-campus thing, and the Atlanta rush hour traffic thing, and the time spent becoming acclimated to dorm life thing and suddenly it seems less black and white. I guess I'm not expecting everyone to drop off the planet altogether or anything, but I will have to make new best friends eventually, and they'll be taking up new spaces in my heart that could overwhelm and overshadow the places where my current friends sit. Maybe that's not how it works. What do I know?
At least I'd be in Atlanta...there is a reason I am staying close to home.
Anyway, this is all pending a giant wad of cash handed to me by the school itself so...we'll see.
The picture at the beginning of this post is a poster that is on the wall in Stephanie's room at Oglethorpe. It captivated me the moment I peered around the door to see it. I am compelled by everything about it. It would be a great going away present for me when I do move into a dorm...I could look at it all day and still love it, I believe.
This is the end of it for tonight. Thank you for being here.
I'll see you soon.
EDIT:
Here is a poem I wrote during the splendid Georgia snowstorm of 2008 (last week).
I was driving home through the thick of it when these words dropped into my head. I felt they were worth scribbling down.
if only the sunshine would come down
with all the forcefulness and fury
of the snow.
which, touching the
corners of our eyes
and our widening mouths
buries us into our houses,
where we sit close
to keep warm.
with its quietest silence,
the snow stops us from
where we are walking,
to fall on our lashes
and make us remember
the colors of each other's eyes.
it compels us to move
slowly, and to
pay attention.
annie morning. 2008.
1/29/08
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