I had the first class of my first day of my last year at Southern. Creative Writing. To me, that's a hopeful thing, sign, premonition, wish, call it what you will. But seriously, how bad can a year be that starts with the first class I've even taken that was entirely for knowledge and experience that I want? Me. Not for my major, not as a stepping stone to the things that I've decided I want to accomplish. Just for the joy of it.
That's what this year is going to be about, you know? Joy. Lots of it. Intense as flooded river, as deep as the fathomless places in the sky between the stars, quieter than the whisper of snow on snow. Just the way I like it.
For a long time it's been all about trying--be more outgoing. Make the effort, do more, be more. I'd forgotten how effortless it can be. And that doesn't mean that nothing requires work; simply that trying too hard, and for the wrong reasons, leads to unhappiness. What should be easy is the reason you're making the effort in the first place.
I stared up at the dark last night before I feel asleep and talked to Amanda about random things, like sisters do. I got my first pair of climbing shoes (purple) and my first harness (pink. the gods must hate me). Hurrah! Two things I waited for forever, it seems.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Arpeggio
They're back.
Oh, are they back.
Everything changes. I'm learning to accept this, as much as my DNA snarls in protest. But some things, some wonderful, achingly beautiful things, will never, ever grow old, or strange, or unfamiliar. I sat in a warm glow of friendship tonight. Not just any friends. My friends, my people, my family. It's been 18 months. The people at the Taco Bell here in Ooltewah must have thought we were all ready to be committed, but we were just happy. I could feel the emotions swirling around in eddies, currents of contentment, laughter, joy, this bewildering but exhilerating wave of...excitement? thrill? peace? I know exactly what it feels like when crucial pieces of your life walk away, but having them come running back in the door and into your arms is another thing altogether.
There really aren't the words. Music, maybe. Each of us, individual notes, chords, scales. Together, a masterpiece. Other than that...I can't explain it. I hope you know what it's like.
Together.
I'm so happy I may spontaneously combust. Hello, senior year. You already rock my world.
Oh, are they back.
Everything changes. I'm learning to accept this, as much as my DNA snarls in protest. But some things, some wonderful, achingly beautiful things, will never, ever grow old, or strange, or unfamiliar. I sat in a warm glow of friendship tonight. Not just any friends. My friends, my people, my family. It's been 18 months. The people at the Taco Bell here in Ooltewah must have thought we were all ready to be committed, but we were just happy. I could feel the emotions swirling around in eddies, currents of contentment, laughter, joy, this bewildering but exhilerating wave of...excitement? thrill? peace? I know exactly what it feels like when crucial pieces of your life walk away, but having them come running back in the door and into your arms is another thing altogether.
There really aren't the words. Music, maybe. Each of us, individual notes, chords, scales. Together, a masterpiece. Other than that...I can't explain it. I hope you know what it's like.
Together.
I'm so happy I may spontaneously combust. Hello, senior year. You already rock my world.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
The Dilemma of the TV
I've barely been in my new house for 18 hours & already my world is sliding off of the nice stable platform I built for it out of expectations, & into the realm of the unknown. I forsee intense moments of navigation ahead, if I can stop focusing on the way I want things to be.
I get kind of startled when things don't happen in a way I expect. There's always a moment of panic while I try & adjust my equilibrium, & then the sudden grasp of balance & the sigh of relief. Just like when you make a grab during a hard climb, the second after you commit & before you are sure the hold is there, when you're straining over a million possibilities & empty space. Change & I have never been good friends, the kind you sleep in piles of sleeping bags with, where you wake up & no one is quite sure which foot belongs to who--more like a new acquintance with possibilities but an unpredictable personality, who you watch with fascination but more than a little wariness as you get to know each other.
When I was ten I thought that, as soon as I was twelve, I would know what was up. I'd have a firm grasp on the world & it would all make sense. When I was thirteen, I waited for 18. By 18, I didn't expect anything different, but when 21 rolled around I was surprised at how much had changed. A year later, now, I've finally settled into expecting that nothing I expected is going to turn out quite like I expected it too. Which is kind of twisted. Actually.
I do want a few things, though, with this house & the new challenge of co-existing peacefully with my two younger sibthings. I want to not always come home to the herd of freshman that seem to follow Alex around, even though I don't blame them. I want to work things out with Amanda so that we don't resort to yelling when our versions of housekeeping (not to mention alarm clocks) don't quite coincide. But the biggest thing right now is, I DO NOT want to have the TV on. Pretty much ever. I hate how I can't read in the same room because I can't concentrate, & how my neck keeps turning to look at it when something interesting happens. & how nobody can carry on a conversation with it on. But I have a plan. I'm going to wait a few days, so suspicion isn't turned on me, & then I'm going to haul it out of the cabinet & yank a wire out of the back where they'll never see. That's pretty much what all this chatter was about. I was in the living room and it took about two minutes to realized that this was change I wasn't going to deal with. I grew up without a TV & I hate them. Of course, the other two did as well, & they like it. Go figure. But it has to die.
I get kind of startled when things don't happen in a way I expect. There's always a moment of panic while I try & adjust my equilibrium, & then the sudden grasp of balance & the sigh of relief. Just like when you make a grab during a hard climb, the second after you commit & before you are sure the hold is there, when you're straining over a million possibilities & empty space. Change & I have never been good friends, the kind you sleep in piles of sleeping bags with, where you wake up & no one is quite sure which foot belongs to who--more like a new acquintance with possibilities but an unpredictable personality, who you watch with fascination but more than a little wariness as you get to know each other.
When I was ten I thought that, as soon as I was twelve, I would know what was up. I'd have a firm grasp on the world & it would all make sense. When I was thirteen, I waited for 18. By 18, I didn't expect anything different, but when 21 rolled around I was surprised at how much had changed. A year later, now, I've finally settled into expecting that nothing I expected is going to turn out quite like I expected it too. Which is kind of twisted. Actually.
I do want a few things, though, with this house & the new challenge of co-existing peacefully with my two younger sibthings. I want to not always come home to the herd of freshman that seem to follow Alex around, even though I don't blame them. I want to work things out with Amanda so that we don't resort to yelling when our versions of housekeeping (not to mention alarm clocks) don't quite coincide. But the biggest thing right now is, I DO NOT want to have the TV on. Pretty much ever. I hate how I can't read in the same room because I can't concentrate, & how my neck keeps turning to look at it when something interesting happens. & how nobody can carry on a conversation with it on. But I have a plan. I'm going to wait a few days, so suspicion isn't turned on me, & then I'm going to haul it out of the cabinet & yank a wire out of the back where they'll never see. That's pretty much what all this chatter was about. I was in the living room and it took about two minutes to realized that this was change I wasn't going to deal with. I grew up without a TV & I hate them. Of course, the other two did as well, & they like it. Go figure. But it has to die.
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