Stop telling yourself that you’re never going to get it together. You’re young. It’s okay. I know you’re afraid that the wise adults in your life are judging you behind your back, but honestly, if that’s the case, then how wise could those adults be? If they have nothing better to do than click their tongues and shake their heads at you, then don’t worry about them. They probably think that they are the drivers of their own lives, and they judge you because you’re more relaxed than that. It’s okay to be relaxed. God is in control. You already know that you’re a hard-worker; why stress about proving it to everyone? Do your work behind the scenes as you always do, and the right people will notice. You are perfectly well-rounded. You work, you laugh, you love. Don’t let anyone get to you just because you don’t go overboard with any one of those things. You are fine. Remember that, and don’t be so hard on yourself. Also, try to calm down with your whole get-married-and-have-a-family obsession. Your day will come when it’s supposed to. Until then, just keep being a good person. And if people ask you why you don’t “put yourself out there,” just politely tell them what you think, what you believe in. You believe in innocence and purity, and if they mock you for it, then shame on them–not on you. You’re a good person, and don’t try to make it more complicated than that. Yes, you still have a lot of downfalls and you make a lot of mistakes, but seriously–stop letting others’ opinions convince you that you’re not a good person. You are a good person. You know that. You’re a good person because you try to be a good person, and that’s what counts. Thoughts of how to be better consume your mind, and yes, you’re a little lazy on the follow-through sometimes. But don’t let anyone push you around. Don’t let anyone skew your intentions into something dark and twisty just because they’re trying to “enlighten” you. In the purest sense, goodness is uplifting–not soul-sucking. If someone attacks you for your attempts at goodness by claiming you’re a fake or that there are better things to be than “good,” then they have it wrong. They are confused. They are on the dark side, and anything too impossible to believe is true to them. People like to make things complicated. Goodness is simple. So be good. Just be good.
A Rainy Day Vignette
It was a Saturday–a rainy one, too–and she hungered for something adventurous to do. She thought of making coffee because that fit the feeling, but at the clank of the mugs, she settled and let be. Her hunger steered her to the stove, where she envisioned a pan full of eggs. She made them, ate them, emptied her plate then she noticed the hunger–still there.
Perhaps she’ll do dishes to feel like a maid in a time that feels more fulfilling. But the dishes got done, and she hungered on; what in the world is this insatiable feeling?
She walked to the great room and saw the piano and thought that it might do the trick. So she tickled the ivories for moonlight, for Clair, but the sounds in the air did not sit.
Then she thought of a magical world that always enchanted her heart–their wands, their swords, their bleak corridors of which she yearned to be part.
All of a sudden, that feeling inside felt satisfied for a moment. And there she sat, happy and fat, but the moment–gone ‘fore she knows it.
It hit her harder than it had all day–so much so she dropped a tear. There she had been, so close, so close, but the pain–it remained here.
Back to her bed she returned with a sigh; I guess it’s just one of those days. She curled up in covers with no one to snuggle and breathed out the last of her pain.
The afternoon came, best friends did the same, claimed they saw the hole she was digging. But I guess they forgot ’bout the old, weathered clock which through rain and pain won’t stop ticking.
Fleeting Thought #8
If you are a jack of all trades, are you a jack of any trade?
If you get along with everybody, do you get along with anybody?
And don’t worry about being ordinary; the most perfect art often goes unnoticed.
On Voice
It’s funny—when I think about publishing a piece of writing, I often squirm under the presumable impressions of my close friends; I feel like they would judge me and think I am “full of it,” to put it simply. The truth is that my writing voice indeed sounds differently from my chilling-out-with-friends voice. Either voice, however, is my own. What a struggle writers and all people alike face: finding our voices.
Fleeting Thought #7
Today is just one of those days…
I have to force myself to be happy.
Yet again, I lack an understanding of my current emotional state.
But my phone just lit up all by itself, so at least that was amusing.
Her Window of Time
Every morning she brushed her teeth, and she pulled the window curtain back to look out onto the world. She could see everything from her neighbor’s yard of dirt on her left to the church’s parking lot on her right, and in between them she saw the green, luscious yard of her own stretching three acres back to the tree line. She looked at the one deep hill that rolled into her family’s designated football field, where they gathered every Labor Day to make fools of themselves. She glanced at the rectangular-shaped patch of new grass, where the vegetable garden of her childhood used to grow. She even cast a passing glance at the shabby garage, which had an unbecoming tin roof and a yellow tint to the once-white walls. She continued brushing her teeth and laughed at the irony.
After she spit and rinsed, her day went on quite normally. She trudged along to her day job, passed the time away at her desk, and trudged right back home. At night she skipped brushing her teeth, but she always looked forward to her morning window time.
Quote #3
“Comparison is the thief of joy.”
–Theodore Roosevelt
Fleeting Thought #6
I have a passion for etiquette. For rules, traditions. Let it be my burden. But, oh, let it be my joy.
Quote #2
“An old Cherokee told his grandson, ‘My son, there is a battle between two wolves inside us all.
One is Evil. It is anger, jealousy, greed, resentment, inferiority, lies and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, empathy, and truth.’
The boy thought about it, and asked, ‘Grandfather, which wolf wins?’
The old man quietly replied, ‘The one you feed.'”
–Author unknown
Food is a Funny Thing
Generally speaking, I tend to hesitate when it comes to determining the state of my emotions. I normally have no clue what I feel; I only know that I, indeed, feel something. Today, I stumbled across a peculiar indicator to help me out: I know I feel happy when I have my appetite, when food looks good again.
I came to this discovery while I browsed Pinterest this morning—-one of my favorite pastimes. Normally, seeing food on Pinterest makes me feel nauseated; today, however, I felt thoroughly excited upon seeing such delicious recipes in front of me. I even felt a little hungrier, which never happens. And that’s when I realized a shift within me.
It’s no secret that these past few months have been hard on me; just take one look at my morbid blog, and you’ll see for yourself. But today, I noticed that I am on the uphill battle. Isn’t it funny that food got me here?
Mysterious Balances 