Effort

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.