I want to dance in the palm of your hand.

It's that point in the semester.

The halfway mark.

The mark where I start to get really ridiculously tired.
The mark where I start questioning what I'm doing here.

It's still weird not living in Virginia.  I know that was 3 months ago, but it's still in my head.  When I think of recovering, I think of illness, accident, tragedy.  But how do you recover from something wonderful?  I know part of me will always want to relive this summer a million times over.  But I don't feel like it should be this odd for me to be "home".  It still doesn't feel like I fit here.  Like a plane in the sunset, with nowhere to land.

I know that this is where I need to be right now,
but why does it feel like I'm in the wrong skin?

I guess my point is, I'm wrestling with things.  With my life.  With my sense of purpose.  With everything.  And I realize that that's the "thing" to do when you're in your twenties, but I am tired.  And yet even with all this wrestling and questioning, I still have hope.  Even in all this, I can't shake the feeling that I'm on the brink of something wonderful.  I'm on the last step, with my toes curled over the edge.  Waiting, praying, ready for whatever leap is going to come next.

So I keep going.  I keep reading, studying, and writing until it feels like my brains will explode.  I keep working and caring until I run out of strength.  I keep praying and believing until I'm all out of faith.  Yet I keep waking up and finding myself renewed again.

P.S.- I hope this finds you well.  And if for some reason it doesn't, I pray you have the courage to keep going.  Tomorrow is a brand new day.

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself.

If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithful
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

-Oriah Mountain Dreamer

"If a woman does not keep pace with her companions, perhaps it is because she hears a different drummer. Let her step to the music which she hears, however measured or far away." -Walden, Thoreau

Quite a bit on my mind, with no way to open up my brain and let you all in.
What I want to do is sit here and pour out all of my thoughts.
What I will do is study for midterms, which are next week.

Rain check?

PS-  I went to this concert last night.  SO glorious.

without you I'm just water and dust

Tonight I left my house and just drove.  Usually, I don't have the luxury of not having a destination, but tonight I rolled all of my windows down and turned my music up.  And then I sang.  It felt like freedom.  Watching the cars and the lights and listening to the symphonies of all our lives going on at once makes me breathless.  We each have a story, a puzzle piece of a bigger and more beautiful picture.

I stopped for coffee and ended up reading in Philippians.  Paul is in jail and he tells the people of Philippi that it's a good thing.  I tremble at the thought of having joy in jail.  In all honestly, I'm not that selfless.  No struggle I've ever experienced has ever come close to being thrown in prison for what I believe.  He even goes on to say that being thrown in jail was worth it because of one jailer who sought faith.  And I just sat there with my overpriced yuppie coffee and let my mind tilt backwards on its axis.  Joy.  Patience.  Struggle.  Running a race that doesn't seem like it has an end.  Endurance.  Encouragement.  People.  Perspective.  Value.  Pain.  Triumph.  Finish line.  It hit me that sometimes the things that happen to us aren't about us.  Maybe there is more purpose in our story than we'll ever really know.

Would you go to jail just for the jailer?

If something that you're doing only effects one person, would you still do it?  Sometimes in my life it seems like I pour myself into things and nothing happens.  At least not that I can see.  And so I give up a little.  I lose heart.  But if my effort makes a difference in one person, is it worth it?  Some people would say no.  But I say YES.  I shout it, I laugh around it, I dance to it.  I think so.  I think one person matters just as much as ten thousand.  One life, one story, one song, could be changed by you.  Your diligence.  Your hopefulness.  Your love.  Your willingness to be inconvenienced.  Your story.

"Sometimes when you're in the middle of something, it feels like you're in the middle of race.  You're sweaty and tired and you want to go home.  You forget that there are people at the finish line waiting for you, cheering for you, and expecting you to finish.  And for a split second, you almost buy into the lie that you're the only one running, when nothing is further from the truth.  We are six billion people with six billion finish lines.  And the truth is, we're all in this together in ways we'll never understand."