The Feeling Of Found

The feeling of being found is not something I take lightly.
I fall in love with words.
Stories whispered so quietly they barely reach my ears in voices dripping with mystery and promise, stories that are so beautiful that even reading them feels like an invasion.
I've never met the person who wrote me this beautiful story and left it for me to find, like pieces of treasure blown by the breeze, and yet I have fallen in love with the way that reading simple words on a page could stir something inside of me that has been dormant for so long.
I fall in love with feelings.
The feeling of being found in a crowded room, of how you said my name like it was some exotic and beautiful thing. The feelings I didn't know lived inside of me anymore until you spoke my name and made me beautiful and breathed life back into these tired bones.
In these days when everything feels so new and overwhelming and foreign, when its so easy just to get lost, the feeling of being found is not something to be taken lightly. I've fallen in love with the feeling of being found, in whatever form it finds me.

“Brigan was saying her name, and he was sending her a feeling. It was courage and strength, and something else too, as if he were standing with her, as if he'd taken her within himself, letting her rest her entire body for a moment on his backbone, her mind in his mind, her heart in the fire of his.
The fire of Brigan's heart was astounding. Fire understood, and almost could not believe, that the feeling he was sending her was love.”  

A semi-autobiography

    i.            Words flow from me like a river. Warm in my belly they sit like soup. Gently, with butterfly like fingers, like soft, flowing ribbons they caress my insides. “Speak your truth,” They whisper to me. I barely have the ears to listen.  Like a river it flows from me, pain like a white, radiant light comes from my spine, my shoulders, and my hips. This pain transforms. It spins me like a spider weaving its web, stitching into me fibers of silver and gold. Stories balance precariously on my tongue and I soak up information, lapping it up like a dog, drinking it in like a traveler in the desert thirsty for a cool drink. Transformed, spinning in this web, I shift and change. Truths are spoken and tiny hands pick up each heel, pressing me onward. Their belief, this radiant form of love, it changes me. With a gentle spirit I open myself upwards to the sun, letting the rays and all their glory penetrate my very being. The babbling brook whispers my name and her laughter catches the wind. I have folded myself into this universe, wrapped myself in the golden rays of the truth. Wrapped in sunlight and silk from the spider’s web, I walk forward.

 

   ii.             The world is not my playground.  Thoughts spiral down, around, thoughts of love and loss and forever. I thought I knew what these things meant, once. But as it would seem, I am an impostor, lying in my own skin. I do not know the meaning of these delicately bound objects. Who does know, I wonder, as I watch the robin build his nest for the coming summer. I feel the sun on my shoulders, the grass under my bare feet. I have it hanging on my wall: love, and yet I am bereft to find the meaning. Because once I thought I loved you, and you were afraid and fled. And I understand, my darling. And yet I dreamt of losing you and I fought against time and space to save you. Your brow is knit tight, your lips pursed closed, and I wonder at your thoughts. I’d throw a penny in every wishing well for you to tell me your utmost desires. What is it that keeps you up all night? What is it that makes your heart sing? What is it, my love? What is it that makes you angry and what makes you at peace? But, like the robin, you are just beyond my reach. And so I will sit in silence, watching, marveling at the beauty that you are. I will watch as you fly away. And I will hope for the day you will come back to my tender garden. I will wait for the day when the beauty of a robin will finally be enough for my wandering heart.

 

  iii.            The memory of you is stored there. Right there, in the pocket of empty space running up my spine, from my tailbone into my shoulders. Some days I scarcely notice the ache from the absence of you. Other days it is all I can think of. The missing is not so much pain, not anymore. It isn’t joy either. I would say it is light grey, like the sun shining through the clouds right before they are about to break after a rainstorm. The world smells fresh and the earth is damp and if I sink my toes into it long enough, I can feel you in the rain. It is stillness. The missing of you is stillness. It isn’t a throbbing absence, not pulsating inside of me. It is more like this empty pocket of space, just there. Most days it doesn’t hurt. It just feels empty. And on those days I’ll put on your sweater, stand on the back porch and wait for rain.

 

     iv.            Soon this space will be too small. I push against the edges of this old box. Like toes in shoes, I am pressed up against the edges. I shift and make myself more comfortable in this space which I am rapidly outgrowing. I feel the tension from being pressed tight, no room to expand. So I must gain courage. I must walk in love, in truth. I must be willing to lose sight of the shore, becoming vulnerable and taking risks. It is there I will taste healing, savoring the taste of solace on my tongue, drinking in marvelous beauty, open to embracing creativity and my truth. With one final push this old rowboat is out to sea. My hands shake as I grip the oars, pushing myself farther and farther away from the shore with each stroke.
Attraversiamo – Let’s cross over.

 

v.            Something always brings me back to you. Like tangles in my hair and the blue heart drawn on the inside of my favorite pair of jeans. It’s a touch stone, I think. It’s like the universe holds it breath in anticipation for this moment, the moment I’ll come back. Because I always do. I’m a gypsy at heart but I can never stay gone for long. I tell myself I’m really leaving this time but we both know it’s a lie. I’m not capable of leaving. I will always come back, floating in on the wind. It’s because you’re a touch stone. It’s because, hard as I try, I can never look into my eyes without seeing the reflection of yours.

 

vi.            And so I wait. For love, for peace, for reunion, for words that last longer than a few moments, for a place my body knows how to stay. I build myself into people. There’s a piece of me there, right under your left ear, and that person has a tiny piece on their big toe. I toss my heart like ashes in the wind and hoping where they fall will be somewhere safe. That’s why I spend so much time running, I think. I’m trying to find myself. I’ve forgotten that here already holds the biggest piece of me.

 

vii.            I ask my empty hands what it all means. I ask myself what it means to love, to let go. I feel the empty space as I sit and I wonder how much longer I will feel the absence like the lack of fluid around my spinal column. I ask them what it  means. I ask them if this time I’m really letting go.

 

viii.            My hands have yet to write the answer.

The future, memories and an 18th birthday party

For the past little while, I've been thinking about my future.
My life is happening right now and it's big and exciting but it's also scary and there's a million different options and choosing one feels like the slamming of thousands of doors.
I've been feeling like everyone around me knows what they're doing, maybe for college or maybe just for the summer. Everyone's moving forward and I've been feeling like I'm being left behind.

Tonight was my friend's 18th birthday party. We laughed and watched him drink his first beer and scratch lottery tickets and we played games and I realized in that moment that these are the times I want to remember.
When I think back on high school, I want to remember this. I want to remember sing alongs around the kitchen table and bad jokes and the sound of laughter. I want to remember these people and how it felt to be comfortable and for one moment the future didn't matter and the past didn't matter and all those messy emotions didn't matter. All that mattered was that I was there, in that moment, surrounded by the people I love and who love me, laughing and making memories.
The future is here and it's now and it's waiting for me and I'm realizing I'll only have these high school days for a little while longer. There's a group graduating this spring, and then next year I'll graduate and life is moving so fast and all that's guaranteed is right now, this moment.
I want to spend that moment making memories.
I know I'll look back on these years and see the hurt. The time I got diagnosed or the time my cousin died and all the times I fell and it hurt and my heart got broken and scarred. They carry an enormous weight. But I believe love carries an even bigger weight and when I look back on these days that's what I want to remember. I want to remember birthday parties and dance offs and sing alongs.  I want to remember bonfires and baseball games and those people that made all of high school worth it.
I want to remember these people who are sewn into the fabric of my life. They are my family. They've seen me at my worst, and love me anyway. They've held me while I've cried and made me laugh so hard I could barely breathe. These are the people who have claimed me, in good times and in bad. These are the people that are bearing witness to my life.
And that's what family is. That's what love is. It's being there for the big moments, and the little everyday ones. It's putting up with someone's bad qualities because, somehow, they complete you.
Love is a leap of faith and I'm learning a soft landing isn't always guaranteed. Sometimes love is going to hurt and it will be messy and hard.
But holding yourself back, away from that love doesn't make anything any easier. Trying to separate yourself from the people you care about because you're growing up and separation is inevitable doesn't make the goodbye not come.
The brave thing is loving those people and making enough memories to carry you through the growing up years, the moving out and moving on and leaving behind this comfortable high school life. Some things don't last forever, but some things, like memories, do. And I only have one chance to make these memories and I don't want to look back and wonder why I held myself back from love. I want to be there for the moments I can, the birthday parties and the laughter around the kitchen table.
This evening, at my friend's birthday party, I wasn't looking backwards or forwards. I was just losing myself in the here, the now, these moments that are guaranteed and filling them with as much laughter and love as I know how so that one day, when the growing up and the leaving does happen, I have these memories.
Tonight I realized everyone at that party is my family and that I don't want to spend my life standing on the outside, holding myself back from love because I'm fearful of getting hurt.
The future is coming, whether I like it or not. And I want to be excited for it. I want to live and laugh and love with my heart wide open. I want more moments laughing with friends around the kitchen table and making jokes over the chip bowl and having those moments that are so perfect that I think I'll miss if I blink in the wrong instant.
I want to make memories while I have the chance, because the future isn't guaranteed and all I have is right now.
And this moment is made for living and dancing and singing and being brave and opening yourself up to love, even if it hurts sometimes.
In the end it's worth it. In the end none of the little things matter and all those fights and the tears, they don't mean anything. The only thing that matters are the people sitting across from you at the table at the 18th birthday party, the people who claim you and bear witness to your life, and making memories that will last forever.
And it's times like this that give me the courage and bravery to face my future.
The future is coming, looming big and bright
And I, for one, can't wait

A year marked by love

Saturday, December 31, 2011 ~ The last day of 2011
Reading: Choosing to See by MaryBeth Chapman
What's on my mind: laughing in the face of tradgedies (Don't ask), the new year's eve party tonight, what happened in this year
Songs that were listened to today: Fences by Paramore (Quickly becoming my new favorite, described by me as deliciously morbid, again, don't ask)
Wearing: Dessert PJ pants and a pink tee shirt, but definatly changing later as I am not wearing this to the party tonight.

I hope the year 2012 brings:

• more happiness, and love, and hope


• growth in my relationship with God, and in my relationships with others


• My 16th Birthday

What else can I really ask for? If I have happiness and love, and am continuing to grow, and have life, what else can I really ask for?

The year 2011 brought:

• the entrance to my sophmore year of high school, and to the age 15


• The best summer ever, full of life and love and learning, and so many memories


• A book, a novel produced by my imagination


• The loss of a good friend, Spencer


• walking through a time of undiagnosed


• growth in my relationship with God, and in my life


• the realization that I am still becoming, and that that's ok


• Friends ~ amazing, beautiful, loving friends


• Hope, and trust, and Love


• Life

"People are really romantic about the beginnings of things. Fresh start, clean slate, a world of possibility. But no matter what new adventure you're embarking on, you're still you. You bring you into every new beginning in your life. So how different can it possibly be?"

But If Not...

None of this is my plan, God
My plan begins with a semi-healthy teenage girl, whose body is free and is not held captive by this mysterious intruder
But if not...
If I am forced to undergo this new challenge, then I would like to have answers sooner rather then later
But if not...
If I am forced to wait, for some reason which I can't see, please lead me to trust worthy doctors
But if not...
If I am shown to doctors who don't understand my condition, then please keep me from any unnessessary testing
But if not...
If I am forced to undergo tests that are not needed, please save me from any extra pain
But if not...
If the road that lays ahead is filled with pain and hardship, then please save my life
But if not...
If I am to leave this life so young, for a reason which I don't know yet, let my enemy know I will worship no other

Daniel 3:18

Moments...

Do you ever wonder what other people are doing when your life is falling apart? I thought about that, when I was laying in the hospital Sunday night/Monday morning. Then, I reversed it. What was I doing when someone else's world is falling apart. I got an email from my best friend today, and her little cousin is sick and may need chemo. What was I doing when she got the news? It's wierd to think about what I was doing when other people's lives changed, maybe forever. It's wierd for me to think about. And if you change it around again, what were you doing when people got the best news of their lives? Maybe you were there, just a person in the backround of a picture. Maybe you were having your own worst moment. It's funny to think about how one person's worst day could be another person's best day.

You ever look at a picture of yourself and see a stranger in the background? It makes you wonder how many strangers have pictures of you. How many moments of other people's lives we've been in. Were we a part of a stranger's life when their dream came true? Or were we there when their dreams died? Did we keep trying to get in - as if we were destined to be there? Or did the shot take us by surprise? Just think, you could be a big part of someone else's life and not even know it