I am an evolving interactive soul, functioning in consistency with those around me, keeping up, sometimes going ahead, but about a week ago my world got tumbled. And the rain, which was subtle before, started pouring down, and it seemed like the avalanche would overcome and smother me. This is unsolicited transition. My intentions, my inspirations, my dreams have been tossed about in the hurricane of "I love you, but I was never in love with you."But I didn't go to bed that night alone. I was instead surrounded by friends, hugs, support, knowledge, wisdom, love, and God and that amazing peace of his. The first few days were very hard. Every moment that I take to review my life to this point causes my mind to crumble under the swift blow that it wasn't real, for me, that is.
I decided to train for a half marathon to work towards moving on. The running is great--I feel very empowered, and motivated. I'm not exercising to lose weight, but to instead reach a goal, and that motivates me all the more. Yesterday I did a weight lifting workout in the earlier afternoon, abut didn't feel as emotionally fit as I would have desired, and when I went to talk it out in Bekah's room later, I decided to go for a run-again. So Ellie and I ran, and we ranted.
I got angry for the first time yesterday, while I was lifting. It was the perfect time to get angry, but it's not as healthy when the words that make you angry are a song that is playing over and over in your head.
"It's not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really f-ed it up this time
Didn't I, dear?"
And yes, it really did screw up everything. Until I really look at what I was truly feeling about the big picture--the idea of compromising some of my dreams, and feeling tied to one particular place. It's liberating, and constricting at the same time. I haven't let go yet, and I know that you don't just fall out of love with someone right away.
One of the hardest parts is that I am in school right now, and studying involves a lot of time in my head. So as Aly says, I'm on the run, always doing doing going going. When I sit down and study, if I'm by myself, it all comes back--the moments, the memories. It helps to take the time to take care of myself, and go play the piano somewhere that no one else is, so that I am unconscious of those who listen, and can just play, and figure out what my mind is doing.
I am working through this. Where my mind is does matter. So I'm working toward that.
"If sinful nature controls your mind, there is death. But if the Holy Spirit controls your mind, there is life and peace." Romans 8:6
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Bringing Light to the Silence
Take Back the Night is a weeklong event that EMU takes part in during the school year. It's in recognition of those who have been sexually abused, and bringing openness and inviting people to talk about what has happened to them.
I decided to be on the Take Back the Night chapel committee for this year. I wasn't really sure what role I was going to take, for I originally wanted to be a part of the sidewalk chalk committee. That was fun for me last year. But Bekah was excited about the idea, so I joined. Later on in the week, I was thinking about how it would be awesome if I could write a song about the theme, Bringing Light to the Silence.
A couple of days ago, I was feeling overwhelmed by schoolwork and life, and I wrote these lyrics. I put melody to them yesterday. I wish I could post a recording, but no performance has been perfect yet, and nowhere near a microphone. Thus, here are my lyrics.
These echoing words aren't love.
I'm being taunted by my own thoughts.
The world doesn't need more pain.
I'm just repeating what's already been said.
Being broken can be mended
But my pieces have been lost along the way.
I'm not together the same
But only I notice I'm missing.
There's light on these dark walls,
And as I pray each day it's lighter.
And there are rainbows slipping through
The prisms I carry inside.
The promises I feel are real
They crumble the brokenness I felt
And my sould won't rock to sleep at night
With it's lips sown shut.
It's bringing light (and life and sound and song)
To this silence.
I decided to be on the Take Back the Night chapel committee for this year. I wasn't really sure what role I was going to take, for I originally wanted to be a part of the sidewalk chalk committee. That was fun for me last year. But Bekah was excited about the idea, so I joined. Later on in the week, I was thinking about how it would be awesome if I could write a song about the theme, Bringing Light to the Silence.
A couple of days ago, I was feeling overwhelmed by schoolwork and life, and I wrote these lyrics. I put melody to them yesterday. I wish I could post a recording, but no performance has been perfect yet, and nowhere near a microphone. Thus, here are my lyrics.
These echoing words aren't love.
I'm being taunted by my own thoughts.
The world doesn't need more pain.
I'm just repeating what's already been said.
Being broken can be mended
But my pieces have been lost along the way.
I'm not together the same
But only I notice I'm missing.
There's light on these dark walls,
And as I pray each day it's lighter.
And there are rainbows slipping through
The prisms I carry inside.
The promises I feel are real
They crumble the brokenness I felt
And my sould won't rock to sleep at night
With it's lips sown shut.
It's bringing light (and life and sound and song)
To this silence.
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
It all seemed to make sense until I popped my blister.
Here I am at EMU studying my ass off.
For those of you who don't know, I'm taking 18 credits, including two psych classes and four social work classes. All of these things are great. I'm learning a lot, but there's some intense reading that I have to do, and all of these assignments and quizzes that are crowding my schedule as I start the second half of the second week.
I'm wondering if I can do it.
New York took a lot out of me. I made great friends, but I almost feel like I burned out. There was too much to think about, too much to do, and I'm not a work-a-holic, nor was I used to that lifestyle, and it's been a struggle for me to be in three different places during August. But now I'm back at EMU, and I'm challenged by my capacity to study, to meet professor's expectations. I don't want to fail. I feel like I'm approaching failure with every step, that each day in class I come, not knowing if I forgot some reading or assignment.
I feel like I'm unprepared to handle the requirements that are before me. I hold high expectations for myself.
I should be able to handle eighteen credits and Jazz Ensemble. But I didn't think that upper level classes would make me feel like I wasn't every finished.
I should be able to feel adequate about commuting and being social enough at school. But I always feel the pressure of being with people and not studying, and wondering if it's necessary to study then.
I should be able to walk around with the confidence I carried with me. But I lost that confidence this summer. It slipped out of my fist.
I should feel like music is something that I can build a career with. But where is the door of opportunity swinging open? Who is going to hear one song that I've written and say, "Wow. That girl needs to record with my company," and sweep me off my feet to a wondrous weighted eighty-eight key keyboard and tell me to write my story until those keys. Who wants to hear that story? Am I new, fresh, and relevant?
Should I still pursue music?
My dear friend Christa told me that I could do both school/Social work and music. But I don't know if I can. I'm driven by the thought that I cannot serve two masters.
Am I serving two masters?
And where am I letting God into all this?
Am I serving three masters?
All I feel is that I cannot figure out who I am because I lost part of who I am when I couldn't feel at home in a place where I was staying. I lost part of what I strived to be when I had to put a face on for fear or angering or disappointing people.
What is the good of reading something if I don't even take it in the first time, or the second time?
I'm brought back to humanity and humility when I taste the bitter taste, or is it the blood, of failure. It takes pieces of me.
The only person that I need to worry about disappointing is. . . is there anyone?
I can only learn from what I am incapable of.
What is failure? a lack of success. Who defines success?
When someone pulls the chair out from under my weak routine and lands me on my butt, again, here I am. Surprised, and tears pour out like they have been waiting to, but I hadn't recognized. These tears come when something dear to me is adjusted. That's all is takes. And I've been slightly ruptured, like the blisters I was nervously popping on my feet, as tears rolled down my face, listening to Zach tell me to ride it out and if I fail, at least I will know how not to do it next time.
I must be adjusting
Because I'm scattered like leaves falling
Down, pitter patter like rain.
I'm dancing spinning round and round
Faster, does the time slow
Enough to not stumble out of my mind?
Is school too hard for me right now?
For those of you who don't know, I'm taking 18 credits, including two psych classes and four social work classes. All of these things are great. I'm learning a lot, but there's some intense reading that I have to do, and all of these assignments and quizzes that are crowding my schedule as I start the second half of the second week.
I'm wondering if I can do it.
New York took a lot out of me. I made great friends, but I almost feel like I burned out. There was too much to think about, too much to do, and I'm not a work-a-holic, nor was I used to that lifestyle, and it's been a struggle for me to be in three different places during August. But now I'm back at EMU, and I'm challenged by my capacity to study, to meet professor's expectations. I don't want to fail. I feel like I'm approaching failure with every step, that each day in class I come, not knowing if I forgot some reading or assignment.
I feel like I'm unprepared to handle the requirements that are before me. I hold high expectations for myself.
I should be able to handle eighteen credits and Jazz Ensemble. But I didn't think that upper level classes would make me feel like I wasn't every finished.
I should be able to feel adequate about commuting and being social enough at school. But I always feel the pressure of being with people and not studying, and wondering if it's necessary to study then.
I should be able to walk around with the confidence I carried with me. But I lost that confidence this summer. It slipped out of my fist.
I should feel like music is something that I can build a career with. But where is the door of opportunity swinging open? Who is going to hear one song that I've written and say, "Wow. That girl needs to record with my company," and sweep me off my feet to a wondrous weighted eighty-eight key keyboard and tell me to write my story until those keys. Who wants to hear that story? Am I new, fresh, and relevant?
Should I still pursue music?
My dear friend Christa told me that I could do both school/Social work and music. But I don't know if I can. I'm driven by the thought that I cannot serve two masters.
Am I serving two masters?
And where am I letting God into all this?
Am I serving three masters?
All I feel is that I cannot figure out who I am because I lost part of who I am when I couldn't feel at home in a place where I was staying. I lost part of what I strived to be when I had to put a face on for fear or angering or disappointing people.
What is the good of reading something if I don't even take it in the first time, or the second time?
I'm brought back to humanity and humility when I taste the bitter taste, or is it the blood, of failure. It takes pieces of me.
The only person that I need to worry about disappointing is. . . is there anyone?
I can only learn from what I am incapable of.
What is failure? a lack of success. Who defines success?
When someone pulls the chair out from under my weak routine and lands me on my butt, again, here I am. Surprised, and tears pour out like they have been waiting to, but I hadn't recognized. These tears come when something dear to me is adjusted. That's all is takes. And I've been slightly ruptured, like the blisters I was nervously popping on my feet, as tears rolled down my face, listening to Zach tell me to ride it out and if I fail, at least I will know how not to do it next time.
I must be adjusting
Because I'm scattered like leaves falling
Down, pitter patter like rain.
I'm dancing spinning round and round
Faster, does the time slow
Enough to not stumble out of my mind?
Is school too hard for me right now?
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