stagnant.

I am learning that a life without goals is a stagnant one.  I often dismiss the idea of goal making and planning too much ahead because the future is unpredictable.  I know I wasn't always this way.  I used to be a dreamer; not just a dreamer, but a practical dreamer I guess.  I used to make plans and then follow them through, even years later.  I decided I would study art in college when I was in elementary school.  I chose Biola when I was 13.  Lately though all I see are lots of doors with uncertain paths ahead of them.  I'm scared to choose one fearing that perhaps all the others will close and what I do choose won't be the right one.  But living in this fear has made my life feel very slow and like a drudgery.  I get up in the morning, drive to work, drive home again, eat, sleep, repeat.  I don't mind the work I do, but I don't feel like it's something I want to do forever - maybe not even for a year from now.  It's my in-between time-buying way to spend my time and make a little money to live.

Floating in my head for the past months are things I think I would like to do as well as things I know I will do, and me trying to figure out how they can fit together.  I know I want to keep my job for at least a year - good for the resume, and good for the loan payments.  I know that I don't want to quit my job until I have something else to do with my life.  I know that more school (one of my options) is constrained by scholastic calendars.  I would like to do something abroad with ELIC or some similar organization, I would like to do something with ceramics, and I would like to study art therapy.  I've been going back and forth as to what I should study for my next college degree, and I think I would like to branch out a little from fine art -- study something related but that is also totally different and has a more potentially directed career path.

I believe I wrote about this in a previous blog post -- all my confusion, but also ELIC.  Maybe this is proof that it is something I should go after, as I don't tend to write new blog posts unless my reeling mind compels me to.  Next July is Melody's wedding.  Next August I will have worked at my current place of employment for a year.  Maybe around then I should be moving forward to something new.  After working with ELIC for a year, obviously see what else could open up from that experience, but I could apply to art therapy programs -- right now I have my eye on Emporia State University in KS.  (It would be really cool if I could study art therapy using ceramics.)  I've also considered applying for a ceramics residency I found in GA.  I don't feel like that's a right now thing though for some reason.

With the New Year coming up I'm thinking that I need to write some new resolutions.  In 2013 I resolve to actually apply to programs that sound interesting, even if they involve scary things like trusting God and fundraising.  I resolve not to settle for easy, but to strive for awesome.  It's so easy to be consumed with my own woes and with everything I have or have not experienced in life and everything I do or do not have, whether material, relational, experiential... or otherwise.  (I can't think of what the otherwise would be... but added it to cover anything I may have missed.)  I also resolve to pray and journal more... and continue to write people postcards and letters.  I feel like I have lost touch with life. with people. and with God.

a river must run its course

I feel like I always have the urge to run away from wherever I am, never quite satisfied.  It's the vagabond quality that I feel is ingrained in my soul.  Maybe there's more to it than that, but I haven't discovered it yet.  Maybe my vagabond soul is evidence of being called to something that I haven't discovered yet.  I'm forever reaching and never quite satisfied.  I keep thinking about all these wonderful things I could pursue, things more wonderful than standing for eight hours in a day greeting people and helping them with their purchases.  Of all the jobs I could do, retail isn't that bad.  In fact, I mostly like it.  However I can't help but think that I was made for something more than this, that I haven't found it yet, that I haven't arrived... that perhaps it's an ok in-between place to be, perhaps a temporary calling? but I haven't reached what I am really meant to be doing, what I was made to be doing.  I have toyed with getting another degree, but in business, so that I can someday open my own tea shop, sell art, and grow community.  However, a degree in business doesn't draw me much right now.  I have also considered a degree in education, or at least a teaching credential, but that also seems dry, like a bunch of hoops to jump through to do something I enjoy that may be tainted by the politics of a school environment.  ...Or I could go back to school for an MFA in... what?  painting?  drawing?  ceramics?  realistic or abstract?  I'm not sure that's the perfect path either.  If only I could be paid to create whatever I wanted to create... or if I could just make art and not worry about having to pay off school or having to have a roof over my head or clothes or food.  I'm not so much worried about the every day necessities, but knowing I have loan payments coming due soon is scary.  Out of all the paths ahead of me on this dimly lit road of feeling the necessity of further education, I feel like I am stumbling most in the direction of a degree in art therapy.  It seems like it would be a nice mix of creativity and intellectual pursuit... of making art, writing papers, and helping people.  To do that, I need to move.  Any preferences for a new state for me to exist in?  Texas, in all its glory, does not have any art therapy masters programs.  California costs too much.  I'm leaning towards Emporia State University in Kansas... but I want to take more time to think before I apply.  I could also do a ceramics residency.  I could also do so many things.  When it seems like few opportunities lay ahead, it merely means that I haven't really looked.

22.

A cousin of mine posted a status on facebook that confused me: "I feel like 22".  It was confusing because I am 22, but she is younger than me, so why would she feel like 22?  Apparently she was quoting Taylor Swift song lyrics.  I didn't remember that Taylor Swift was my age.  22 is a weird age.  At 18 you can buy spray paint -- and other things, but I got the ID for the art projects.  At 21 you can have a drink.  22... seems old if you're a teenager, but now that I'm that age, leaning closer and closer to 23, I realize that 22 is still just young, and I frequently feel young, naive, still a child.  I don't know what I could do that would make me "feel my age" but I have a feeling that most choices people make that may do that for them are decisions filled with regret.  22 for me is a year of being partially in the real world and realizing that I don't like it.  There are good moments, but I always secretly long for that place of contentment and bliss that I often equate with living in a cabin in the woods -- maybe with a potter's wheel, some clay, and a kiln.  School burnt me out, and retail is tough.  I don't know what I'm supposed to do that will really be the right choice for me.  I feel forever at a crossroads.

My World

It's hard letting people in; I'm not sure what I'm so scared of, except perhaps that the closer I let someone be, the farther they may wish to go.  I think a lot of it has to do with growing up overseas and moving a lot.  Even though I have only lived in two countries - (hah, *only 2*) - I have lived in a lot of houses, and I grew up in a transient community.  We were not nomads in the general sense, no.  I grew up attending a school for the children of missionaries.  Missionaries, even if stationed in one place for a long time typically return to their country of origin every few years to touch bases with their supporters and raise more support to continue in their ministry.  Thus, each year, several kids would leave, replaced by several new or returning faces.  My "class" was not constant, though anyone who was ever a part of it could be considered "one of us."  Some people I grew up with.  I could tell you that I knew one guy since I was five -- but when I was 8, I wasn't there. and when he was 14, he wasn't.  Our years in other places shaped us just as much as our years in that place did, and we often came back with changed perspectives.  I remember coming back my freshman year of high school and feeling like everything there had changed and everyone had gotten closer, but I had also changed, differently, and I felt like I had drifted farther away.  The people I grew up with, no matter how haphazardly, are the people who I think I will always consider almost as a family; they are friends that I may contact out of the blue, and I think I know that they will be there for me.  They understand more than anyone I have met since what I have been through and what I am going through, they have seen and felt similar things.  I think it's hard for me to trust people who don't fully get where I am coming from, and so I try and tell them where I am coming from, but they never saw it or felt it like I did.  One of these days I will have to let it go and figure out a way to trust people and let them in though they may never fully know or understand me or my life.

I was thinking last night about my connection with the word "vagabond."  I know I am not in the literal sense a vagabond, but I connected with the word the same way that I connected with the word "sojourner" and came up with the screen name "sojourniste" when I was in high school.  I feel like a wanderer.  Not because I am homeless in the literal sense, but because I don't feel like I have roots anywhere.  I stay anywhere too long and I am anxious to find something new, to move on.  I follow the wind where it blows me.  I don't have one place that is home.  I desperately want one place that is home.  I desperately want roots, but I am so scared to plant them.  I wrote last night what I feel would be an excellent line for a song, though I haven't written the rest of it yet:

"and someday
when my vagabond soul
tires of wandering
I'll find my place with you"

I wasn't sure whether it would be a song to a lover or a song to God, but I think I sometimes feel lost on both fronts and feel like I am wandering and searching for a place I can claim rootedness on both fronts.

Maybe I Need a Man

I really do hate to gripe, especially about this, I feel like it makes me seem weak, desperate, and needy as a woman.  I don't want to be any of the above, or be perceived as any of the above.  I'm 22.  I think it's pretty normal to want to be in a relationship at this point, but I'm not.  I never have been.  I have had a few good guy friends over the years, but the ones I may have liked didn't seem interested.  The one - maybe two - who actually showed interest were not really my cup of tea.  I try not to give up hope, but my external optimism is merely a mask and coping mechanism for the pessimist that reigns.  I'm at a point in my life where I don't know many men, and I don't really know how to interact with them either.  I'm at a loss.  I really want to buy into prince charming riding in on a white horse and sweeping me off my feet.  I really want to buy into a fairy tale romance, but if history is any indication, I'm not really the girl that most guys imagine sweeping off her feet.  I try to stand on my own, to find strength in being a single woman and figure out what that means in my life, and I am mostly satisfied.  I try to be satisfied in my singleness because that's where I am at right now, and I can't imagine anything changing anytime soon.  I have friends who had their first kisses in middle school and others who are now married with a kid or two, all my age.  I've hardly even been on any dates - and the few include school sponsored events.  Since I was little I knew I wanted to get married someday and have a family of my own.  The older I get, the more I want this.  I want a husband and children who I can love and care for.  I want to be a wife and a mother.  I don't know how that works.  I'm not sure at this point if a guy asked me out if I would say "yes" out of joy/possible desperation or "no" because it's such a foreign concept to me.  I think though I so want someone in my life, that since such is so against the norm for me, I would have no idea how to be a girlfriend, and I would be really scared.  I need someone who is willing to give me a chance and be patient with lack of knowledge about any of this... but I guess in time, all in good time.

Missing You.

Thunder rolls and lightning flashes
A storm threatening the confines of my soul
Internal agony unseen, unheard, unfelt
But for the stray drop of rain spilling down my cheeks.

Somewhere in the distance, I know birds are chirping
I can almost feel the smile of the sun on my back
But my heart is a torrential downpour
Floodwaters quickly rising, threatening to overtake.

I live for the peace of tomorrow --
Morning sun breaking through lately stormy clouds
May the sun rise yet another day
And my heart be warmed again with joy

Things to Come

What is to come?  I graduated from school, moved to Texas, and started a retail job.  This feels right for now, but it also just feels like a via point, like I'm just passing through here for a short time.  I missed a call today from the English Language Institute to try and recruit me to go overseas next year for 11 months and teach English in South Asia.  I also had an email from them waiting in my inbox.  For some reason, this contact really struck me and I was inspired to look the organization up again.  When I was still in school I had no interest in committing to serving overseas.  I was very one-track minded and could only really focus on the stress of getting through school.  I went to the booths at Missions Conference because I was supposed to care about what was happening overseas and here and was supposed to want to volunteer, but I really had no interest.  Finishing school was the only goal -- what would happen after that with an art degree and 100,000 different possible life paths?  Who knows, but I knew that I had to finish school.  Now it's a whole new story.  I moved back home and I don't think I want to stay here long term.  I got a job in retail, and I don't think I can handle that long term.  I don't feel like working as a cashier at a large chain store really is a valuable fulfilling job.  I feel like it is a position most anyone could fill.  I am utterly replaceable.  I remember that every day as I make small mistakes and wonder why they haven't fired me already -- though me thinks I am a bit hard on myself.  Even so, where I'm at in life feels very transitional, like I would go crazy if it lasted, like it's not supposed to last.  From that position, going overseas and teaching English for 11 months sounds wonderful.  I'm in transition as it is -- that at least would be more interesting transition... and maybe I am in this place of change for a reason, maybe it's where I need to be to be willing to open my heart to whatever God has for me.  Nothing is in stone right now.  I have a part time job and I live at home.  I have toyed with the idea of going back to school, but I am thinking that I want to put that off for a few years -- narrow down what graduate studies to pursue.  Having nothing in stone is both completely freeing and utterly terrifying, but I think it's important right now and that I need to embrace it, to let myself experience life and grow up a bit.  Time for a quarter life crisis?  Or maybe just to fall on my knees at the feet of a creator and give this life into his hands to be used however it ought to be used.

From A Distance

Earlier tonight I pondered the idea that "everything looks better from a distance" and posted it on my twitter feed with the hashtag "nostalgia."  A friend replied to that saying that he could come up with exceptions to that, and I said I wanted a list.  That made me think more about my statement and perhaps why I wrote it.

These, my musings:

Things look better from a distance?  Maybe because from a distance, there is no commitment to do anything.  If a plan is still in the future, it can be changed.  If something is in the past, it is set, and cannot be altered, but at least it is from a time and day past.  But this applies not just to time.  If I see someone in the distance who is attractive, they need not know I see them at all and they certainly need not know how I see them.  Distance hides blemishes that can only be seen up close and distance allows for retreat.  Distance is an invisible barrier between people that for some creates a sense of security.  Some think, or really, I have thought, that if anyone every really got to know me, they would run the other direction and not look back.  Distance makes sure that I never find out if that is someone's response, because if they can never get close enough, how would they ever know to run away?  I can thus be satisfied in the fantasy that I am loved for exactly who I am by people who do not know exactly who I am.  It seems difficult, probably impossible, for a person to love another based on qualities unknown to them.
The sad part about distance?  In distance there is only observation of and not true relationship with and to others.  In distance there are no true friendships.  In distance remains only loneliness.

Life's Good

I find that when I have joyous things to say, I share them on facebook, or twitter.  when I feel like venting and I hope for a few readers but also hope that perhaps the venue is less frequented by everyone I love and hold dear, I tend to post here.  I realize it is probably not wise to share personal feelings in an online format that could be read by anyone anywhere, but I write this knowing that, because I need to write, and I want someone to see where I am at and maybe "get" me a little better.

As a preface, let me say that graduating from college, moving to a new state, starting a new job, turning over a new leaf... whatever you want to call my current major transition -- well, it puts me in a very lonely place.  I know I somewhat brought this on myself, as I could have found a way to stay in California if that is what I wanted, but I was so ready to get out, to put college behind me and move on.  I think despite my dislike of transition and feeling in a state of limbo, the need for constant change is ingrained in my MK soul.  Four years in California, four years in college... and now I'm itching for something new, hoping to somehow find more pieces to a puzzle that fell apart when I left my childhood home, a puzzle that still isn't complete. 

One musing was that some of the "puzzle pieces" missing were friends that I have held dear
and so we have...

"Life's Good"

Life's pretty good - yeah
Thanks for asking
It's full of everything they say I need --
a job, a breath, some food, a car, a home;
a friend to laugh with every now and then
If you're wanting to know I'm fine
Don't worry your pretty head
Don't worry --

But if you want to see what's really inside of me
Take a closer look and find my heart

Life's pretty good - yeah, well
Maybe awful
I find that when I stop to think --
a job, a breath, some food, a car, a home;
but you're not here to laugh with now and then
If you're wanting to know I'm fine
Don't worry your pretty head
This battle's mine.

but i find that when I take a break
and think of all you were to me, all the things that used to be --
what isn't any more

it breaks my heart to see how far we've come
away from where we were
how far away now we seem to be.

is everything just better from a distance
are memories too good to be true
just going through the motions or so it seems
i wish things that were - would be
but maybe I should dream a different dream

maybe it's time to grow up
time to say goodbye --
and I know that time was long ago,
but I refuse to give up my dream
that things that were, could be.