I feel like I write about that same things over and over again here - either 'I'm so awesome', or 'I'm so lucky'...
Both are true.
Goodnight, dear void.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
Those who love deeply are the lucky ones
I have been lucky in my life to have loved, and loved deeply.
I dropped my baby sister off at her university dorm today. And as I was helping her unpack her clothes, and watching her straighten her hair before going out on adventures with her new found friends, it hit me that my first year of school was a long time ago. My adventures with those friends surrounding the corner house are long since over and done with. We've all grown up and moved on to different phases of our lives completely independent of one another.
While that can be sad at times to realize, it is a miracle that I ever had them in my life to begin with, and that is lucky.
When I was a senior in high school I started writing a novel centering on Peter Pan. I was completely fixated on Never Neverland, and the idea that there was a place where one did not have to grow up - where things did not have to change. I watched the movie (2003) over and over and changed my computer password at school to reflect my new obsessive line of thought. I didn't want to leave that time and place (2008 in Hong Kong). Somewhere deep down inside of me, I knew that once I left, nothing would ever be the same.
I left, and I was right on the mark - it all changed.
And I could never go back.
Now I smile at what was just around the corner ("The entrance to our store is around the corner. There's no other way of saying that. It's not the name of our store. It's where it is. And you do not own the phrase 'around the corner.'") for me.
The people I loved in Hong Kong are people I will take with me for the rest of my life, maybe more. But, it didn't end there. I was so lucky, to have more people to love because I grew up - because I didn't escape to a world without change.
People come and go in our lives. Often it's hard to keep a hold on even one or two of them. If you are lucky, the ones you want to keep, want to keep you back, and a life-long friendship is forged that surpasses all distance, circumstance, and time restrictions.
Life is a bumpy journey, so don't forget to look around at who's on the ride with you; they just may end up making a Never Neverland in your heart where you can escape any time a certain song comes on the radio, or a distinct smell wafts your way. And those memories end up directing you to the second star on the right and keep you going on 'til morning.
I know I've said this before, but change is a beautiful and important part of life. Without it, life would not be as fragile, or as uniquely special from one moment to the next; it would become a film on Netflix instead of a one time showing of Les Miserables on a professional stage. One can be viewed anytime and the experience is cheap and replaceable - the other is once in a life time, invaluable and fleeting making it something you have to hold on to.
While I admit that Never Neverland will always carry some appeal, the reality of growing up allows so much more love than I ever imagined.
Goodnight, dear void.
I dropped my baby sister off at her university dorm today. And as I was helping her unpack her clothes, and watching her straighten her hair before going out on adventures with her new found friends, it hit me that my first year of school was a long time ago. My adventures with those friends surrounding the corner house are long since over and done with. We've all grown up and moved on to different phases of our lives completely independent of one another.
While that can be sad at times to realize, it is a miracle that I ever had them in my life to begin with, and that is lucky.
When I was a senior in high school I started writing a novel centering on Peter Pan. I was completely fixated on Never Neverland, and the idea that there was a place where one did not have to grow up - where things did not have to change. I watched the movie (2003) over and over and changed my computer password at school to reflect my new obsessive line of thought. I didn't want to leave that time and place (2008 in Hong Kong). Somewhere deep down inside of me, I knew that once I left, nothing would ever be the same.
I left, and I was right on the mark - it all changed.
And I could never go back.
Now I smile at what was just around the corner ("The entrance to our store is around the corner. There's no other way of saying that. It's not the name of our store. It's where it is. And you do not own the phrase 'around the corner.'") for me.
The people I loved in Hong Kong are people I will take with me for the rest of my life, maybe more. But, it didn't end there. I was so lucky, to have more people to love because I grew up - because I didn't escape to a world without change.
People come and go in our lives. Often it's hard to keep a hold on even one or two of them. If you are lucky, the ones you want to keep, want to keep you back, and a life-long friendship is forged that surpasses all distance, circumstance, and time restrictions.
Life is a bumpy journey, so don't forget to look around at who's on the ride with you; they just may end up making a Never Neverland in your heart where you can escape any time a certain song comes on the radio, or a distinct smell wafts your way. And those memories end up directing you to the second star on the right and keep you going on 'til morning.
I know I've said this before, but change is a beautiful and important part of life. Without it, life would not be as fragile, or as uniquely special from one moment to the next; it would become a film on Netflix instead of a one time showing of Les Miserables on a professional stage. One can be viewed anytime and the experience is cheap and replaceable - the other is once in a life time, invaluable and fleeting making it something you have to hold on to.
While I admit that Never Neverland will always carry some appeal, the reality of growing up allows so much more love than I ever imagined.
Goodnight, dear void.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Do you know you're awesome?
When I type, the sound of the keys clicking on my keyboard take me back to my fifth grade self when I was just leaning to find the home keys and to teach my fingers to reach for the letters beyond them to form words, sentences, and paragraphs. I remember thinking my fingers would never find their way on their own; I would always have to consciously locate the keys I searched for. And then one day, without me even really realizing it, my fingers didn't need any help from me to take individual letters on a keyboard and form them into a coherent form of communication.
My senior year of high school, my best friend told me that her mom typed up all of her dad's papers in college and that he still used two fingers to type on a keyboard. I remember being baffled at the idea of your fingers not knowing how to navigate these little boxed letters.
It's funny how easily we forget where we've come from, and just how far the coming has taken us. It's so easy to look at who we are right now and be disappointed with the girl in the mirror. And yet, 12 years ago I was still looking at the keyboard to type, and typing so slowly that it was not beneficial in the slightest to type something as opposed to just writing it down. If my typing has improved significantly over time, would it not be obvious to believe that other aspects of who I am have come that far as well - maybe even farther.
I am so content with who I am. I have so many things that I am working on every day, so many areas of my life that are so far from nearing perfection. I'm happy though. And happiness at some point trumps all the little things in life that need a little tweaking (or a lot...). I have come a long way from where I used to be.
My little sister pointed out the other day that anyone who knows me knows that I know that I am awesome. I thought about it, and she's right. I say that I am awesome almost every single day of my life. It is the reason for every good thing and every stupid thing that I do. I am awesome - fundamentally, at the core; I am awesome.
Knowing that I am awesome and thinking about how everyone else tends to know that I know that piece of information makes me wonder how many other people in the world truly know that they are awesome. Does it change them? I am awesome, and it changes me. When I'm feeling discouraged or disheartened, at some point I seriously stop myself and think, "but I am awesome." Are there other people in the world who do the same thing?
I would venture that even if there are a few of those people in this world aside from me, there could stand to be a few more. So when you're done reading this post, pause your life for a moment and think of at least ten legitimate reason why you are awesome - fundamentally, at the core - because I bet you are...
Goodnight, dear void.
My senior year of high school, my best friend told me that her mom typed up all of her dad's papers in college and that he still used two fingers to type on a keyboard. I remember being baffled at the idea of your fingers not knowing how to navigate these little boxed letters.
It's funny how easily we forget where we've come from, and just how far the coming has taken us. It's so easy to look at who we are right now and be disappointed with the girl in the mirror. And yet, 12 years ago I was still looking at the keyboard to type, and typing so slowly that it was not beneficial in the slightest to type something as opposed to just writing it down. If my typing has improved significantly over time, would it not be obvious to believe that other aspects of who I am have come that far as well - maybe even farther.
I am so content with who I am. I have so many things that I am working on every day, so many areas of my life that are so far from nearing perfection. I'm happy though. And happiness at some point trumps all the little things in life that need a little tweaking (or a lot...). I have come a long way from where I used to be.
My little sister pointed out the other day that anyone who knows me knows that I know that I am awesome. I thought about it, and she's right. I say that I am awesome almost every single day of my life. It is the reason for every good thing and every stupid thing that I do. I am awesome - fundamentally, at the core; I am awesome.
Knowing that I am awesome and thinking about how everyone else tends to know that I know that piece of information makes me wonder how many other people in the world truly know that they are awesome. Does it change them? I am awesome, and it changes me. When I'm feeling discouraged or disheartened, at some point I seriously stop myself and think, "but I am awesome." Are there other people in the world who do the same thing?
I would venture that even if there are a few of those people in this world aside from me, there could stand to be a few more. So when you're done reading this post, pause your life for a moment and think of at least ten legitimate reason why you are awesome - fundamentally, at the core - because I bet you are...
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Song of the Wanderer
Across the gently rolling hills,
Beyond high mountain peaks,
Along the shores of distant seas,
There's something my heart seeks.
But there's no peace in wandering,
The road's not made for rest.
And footsore fools will never know
What home might suit them best.
But, oh, the things I have seen,
The secret paths I've trod,
The hidden corners of the world
Known to none but me and God.
Yes, the world was meant for knowing,
And feet were meant to roam,
But one who's always going
Will never find a home.
Oh, where's the thread that binds me,
The voice that calls me back?
Where's the love that finds me-
And what's the root I lack?
My heart seeks the hearth,
My feet seek the road.
A soul so divided
Is a terrible load.
My heart longs to rest,
My feet yearn to roam.
Shall I wander the world
Or stay safe at home?
-Bruce Coville
Across the gently rolling hills,
Beyond high mountain peaks,
Along the shores of distant seas,
There's something my heart seeks.
But there's no peace in wandering,
The road's not made for rest.
And footsore fools will never know
What home might suit them best.
But, oh, the things I have seen,
The secret paths I've trod,
The hidden corners of the world
Known to none but me and God.
Yes, the world was meant for knowing,
And feet were meant to roam,
But one who's always going
Will never find a home.
Oh, where's the thread that binds me,
The voice that calls me back?
Where's the love that finds me-
And what's the root I lack?
My heart seeks the hearth,
My feet seek the road.
A soul so divided
Is a terrible load.
My heart longs to rest,
My feet yearn to roam.
Shall I wander the world
Or stay safe at home?
-Bruce Coville
Friday, May 18, 2012
Boxes in my heart
All of April is gone.
It's hard to believe that as I sit here typing, half of May is gone too.
My life is on the move again. This morning I realized that subconsciously I have been boycotting all the movement to some extent. My family is moving home from Hong Kong into a new house. Which means I am packing up the condo they have been using as a summer home (and I have been using as a home home)for the last two years and filling the garage with boxes.
To this end, I've been holed up in my house claiming to be packing since the semester got out. I've been sorting through things and going through piles of papers that I meant to go through a long time ago. It's been a process.
And yet, in a flash of deep understanding this morning I realized that I didn't have any boxes.
You can't be moving - or even packing for that matter - if you don't have any boxes.
Turns out... I don't want to move.
I understand why I am moving, but that still doesn't make me want it anymore than I would if I didn't have good reason for doing it. I know I should be excited about the development and growth that will surely come in this new chapter of my life, but I guess I just can't shake the feeling that I just barely put down roots here. I just got attached to people in my life, and moving means I have to give them up.
The letting-go part of change is the part I struggle with. I want the new people and places that change will bring, but I don't want to have to let go of the people and places I already have and already love. It's a constant battle I fight every time I pick up and move.
Strangely enough, while I struggle with this aspect of life's journey, I also find it to be one of the most beautiful and rewarding parts of that journey. Change is the nature of the life we live. It will always happen. Every day we are moving closer and closer to a change that will alter the very fabric of our existence- every day closer to a crossroads where we will chose to explore a new, and up to this point unknown, path that will lead us to more unexplored regions of our potential universe. We cannot possibly know where our lives will end up, because most of the paths we will chose in the future are hidden from the view of our current selves.
It is this unknown side of life that gives living every day to its fullest its importance. If we could have any given day back to do over again or to relive, it would cheapen the experience and make the memory worthless, because we could have it again anytime. We can't have yesterday back; all we can have are the memories of the days already gone be. We have to live today filled to the brim with adventure and love, because we can never get today back.
So, tonight I will finally get some boxes and finally really start moving. Am I sad to be leaving this place and this set of people who have shaped and molded me? Of course. I have loved my time here. I have become a whole new and improved version of myself - Abby 22.0 if you will - and that cannot be forgotten. But, I don't plan on forgetting it, or forgetting anyone from this place.
They have become a part of me as I hope I have become a part of them too. Every person you meet leaves something with you; you carry them in your daily living - recognized or not. We all leave impressions on one another, and those impressions give way to decisions we make about the person we are and the person we will become. We never truly leave anyone, or any place, behind us. We pack the memories of them up in boxes and store them in our hearts and minds until the information they carry in them becomes useful or something reminds us of them. Then we open the boxes and take out the memories.
And we are changed, again.
Goodnight, dear void.
It's hard to believe that as I sit here typing, half of May is gone too.
My life is on the move again. This morning I realized that subconsciously I have been boycotting all the movement to some extent. My family is moving home from Hong Kong into a new house. Which means I am packing up the condo they have been using as a summer home (and I have been using as a home home)for the last two years and filling the garage with boxes.
To this end, I've been holed up in my house claiming to be packing since the semester got out. I've been sorting through things and going through piles of papers that I meant to go through a long time ago. It's been a process.
And yet, in a flash of deep understanding this morning I realized that I didn't have any boxes.
You can't be moving - or even packing for that matter - if you don't have any boxes.
Turns out... I don't want to move.
I understand why I am moving, but that still doesn't make me want it anymore than I would if I didn't have good reason for doing it. I know I should be excited about the development and growth that will surely come in this new chapter of my life, but I guess I just can't shake the feeling that I just barely put down roots here. I just got attached to people in my life, and moving means I have to give them up.
The letting-go part of change is the part I struggle with. I want the new people and places that change will bring, but I don't want to have to let go of the people and places I already have and already love. It's a constant battle I fight every time I pick up and move.
Strangely enough, while I struggle with this aspect of life's journey, I also find it to be one of the most beautiful and rewarding parts of that journey. Change is the nature of the life we live. It will always happen. Every day we are moving closer and closer to a change that will alter the very fabric of our existence- every day closer to a crossroads where we will chose to explore a new, and up to this point unknown, path that will lead us to more unexplored regions of our potential universe. We cannot possibly know where our lives will end up, because most of the paths we will chose in the future are hidden from the view of our current selves.
It is this unknown side of life that gives living every day to its fullest its importance. If we could have any given day back to do over again or to relive, it would cheapen the experience and make the memory worthless, because we could have it again anytime. We can't have yesterday back; all we can have are the memories of the days already gone be. We have to live today filled to the brim with adventure and love, because we can never get today back.
So, tonight I will finally get some boxes and finally really start moving. Am I sad to be leaving this place and this set of people who have shaped and molded me? Of course. I have loved my time here. I have become a whole new and improved version of myself - Abby 22.0 if you will - and that cannot be forgotten. But, I don't plan on forgetting it, or forgetting anyone from this place.
They have become a part of me as I hope I have become a part of them too. Every person you meet leaves something with you; you carry them in your daily living - recognized or not. We all leave impressions on one another, and those impressions give way to decisions we make about the person we are and the person we will become. We never truly leave anyone, or any place, behind us. We pack the memories of them up in boxes and store them in our hearts and minds until the information they carry in them becomes useful or something reminds us of them. Then we open the boxes and take out the memories.
And we are changed, again.
Goodnight, dear void.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Keylen
Stop running. Slow down. Breathe. Breathe. Don't turn around. No looking back. Keep walking.
A twig snaps and she whirls herself around, unwillingly admitting that she isn't quite alone as she'd hoped. Then again she knew she'd never truly been alone. Now there was unmistakable evidence to that fact.
"Hello?"
"Hello."
"Who are you? Do you know who I am? Why are you following me?" Stay calm. Keep your voice even.
"My name is Keylen, and yes, I know who you are. I will not speak your name here, for I know you have traveled far and wide to erase it from their memories." She motioned to the trees around us, fully understanding their power as I did. "I am not here to harm you, or to force you to travel a path you do not choose yourself. I am merely here to serve as a protection, should you need one. Though you have demonstrated time and again that protection is an area in which you rarely require aid. Nevertheless, I have come to offer myself to you. If not for protection or guidance, than for companionship. I know you can do this on your own, I am simply letting you know that you do not have to do this thing all alone. There are others on your side who are here, ready and willing, to do whatever you may need us to do. Please, stop running from me; let me walk and run with you. Please."
Her accent was thick, her message sincere.
"Come, Keylen. Let us go."
A twig snaps and she whirls herself around, unwillingly admitting that she isn't quite alone as she'd hoped. Then again she knew she'd never truly been alone. Now there was unmistakable evidence to that fact.
"Hello?"
"Hello."
"Who are you? Do you know who I am? Why are you following me?" Stay calm. Keep your voice even.
"My name is Keylen, and yes, I know who you are. I will not speak your name here, for I know you have traveled far and wide to erase it from their memories." She motioned to the trees around us, fully understanding their power as I did. "I am not here to harm you, or to force you to travel a path you do not choose yourself. I am merely here to serve as a protection, should you need one. Though you have demonstrated time and again that protection is an area in which you rarely require aid. Nevertheless, I have come to offer myself to you. If not for protection or guidance, than for companionship. I know you can do this on your own, I am simply letting you know that you do not have to do this thing all alone. There are others on your side who are here, ready and willing, to do whatever you may need us to do. Please, stop running from me; let me walk and run with you. Please."
Her accent was thick, her message sincere.
"Come, Keylen. Let us go."
Friday, March 16, 2012
Waiting Walking
Sometimes I feel like my life is a giant game of waiting. I try to keep moving forward in various aspects of my life, and I've certainly come a long way. And yet... I am still waiting.
At some point it becomes hard to imagine a life without waiting. Is there such a life? Really? We all seem to be waiting for one thing or another.
And while there seems to be so much waiting occuring in my life, there has also been so much change and growth and development.
Life hasn't turned out at all like I thought it would, and it has turned out even less like what I'd planned.
I am nowhere I thought I would be 5 years ago, and I've been a million places I'd never dreamed of going in the same span of time.
Someone once said that life just has a way of working out; I really believe that. My life over the last 5 years has, on occassion, appeared - and even felt - like a massive mess, but it has somehow worked out. Those million places I've ended up have changed my life and shaped my soul.
I recently was writing 'My Story' for a history class. As I was thinking about events to add, I found that I was adding the events that really have made me who I am - inside and out. There are definitive moments over the course of my life that acted as crossroads for the person I was becoming. Looking back it became clear that it would have been so easy to stay on the same course I was originally headed on, but events in my life caused me to change course, and it is those unplanned, unexpected changes in the road ahead that have truly made my life what it is - made me who I am.
Perhaps then, life feels like a giant waiting game because there are only so many things we can plan and execute fully. Perhaps the life we are meant to have is the life that we cannot plan for and encompasses all the things we've never dreamed of for our own lives.
I should have listened to John Lennon - "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans".
Amen, John.
I've been more than busy making my other plans.
Despite them, this morning I feel myself approaching yet another crossroads in my life... Are we not all approaching a crossroads - in the near or distant future?
And so, we wait.
But we do not wait idly or in vain.
So perhaps we need to change the verb in the sentence of our lives. Let's walk instead of wait.
And so, we walk, ever living and planning until that crossroads appears and our lives - and souls most likely - are changed and our courses altered.
Let's walk towards the fulfillment of the dreams we've yet to dream.
Goodnight, dear void.
At some point it becomes hard to imagine a life without waiting. Is there such a life? Really? We all seem to be waiting for one thing or another.
And while there seems to be so much waiting occuring in my life, there has also been so much change and growth and development.
Life hasn't turned out at all like I thought it would, and it has turned out even less like what I'd planned.
I am nowhere I thought I would be 5 years ago, and I've been a million places I'd never dreamed of going in the same span of time.
Someone once said that life just has a way of working out; I really believe that. My life over the last 5 years has, on occassion, appeared - and even felt - like a massive mess, but it has somehow worked out. Those million places I've ended up have changed my life and shaped my soul.
I recently was writing 'My Story' for a history class. As I was thinking about events to add, I found that I was adding the events that really have made me who I am - inside and out. There are definitive moments over the course of my life that acted as crossroads for the person I was becoming. Looking back it became clear that it would have been so easy to stay on the same course I was originally headed on, but events in my life caused me to change course, and it is those unplanned, unexpected changes in the road ahead that have truly made my life what it is - made me who I am.
Perhaps then, life feels like a giant waiting game because there are only so many things we can plan and execute fully. Perhaps the life we are meant to have is the life that we cannot plan for and encompasses all the things we've never dreamed of for our own lives.
I should have listened to John Lennon - "life is what happens while you're busy making other plans".
Amen, John.
I've been more than busy making my other plans.
Despite them, this morning I feel myself approaching yet another crossroads in my life... Are we not all approaching a crossroads - in the near or distant future?
And so, we wait.
But we do not wait idly or in vain.
So perhaps we need to change the verb in the sentence of our lives. Let's walk instead of wait.
And so, we walk, ever living and planning until that crossroads appears and our lives - and souls most likely - are changed and our courses altered.
Let's walk towards the fulfillment of the dreams we've yet to dream.
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Good morning, Sun
There is something about waking up before the sun that I crave. I love the way it begins to creep through my window in the morning; it is so hope-filled and lovely. And slowly the light fills up the whole house. But those few minutes just before that, I love how it almost isn't sure if it should invade your privacy; its rays almost seem timid as they make their way through the blinds and reach towards you. And it is in their timidness that I love them and wish that they would envelop me and propel me forward into the sunlight of a new day.
Perhaps that is why I'm angry when I wake up at 7:15 every morning (instead of 6:12 when my alarm goes off), at that point I've missed saying 'good morning' to the sun.
Goodnight, dear void.
Perhaps that is why I'm angry when I wake up at 7:15 every morning (instead of 6:12 when my alarm goes off), at that point I've missed saying 'good morning' to the sun.
Goodnight, dear void.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Lullaby on the Wind
Shhh, I know what you're going to say.
You don't need to though.
I understand that you need me.
That goes without saying.
When you looked at me with those eyes,
I knew to come to you.
The way you hold yourself has changed
and the way you hold my hand is different.
Why didn't you come sooner?
Didn't you know I would catch you
before you hit the bottom of this pit?
I'm here, now.
See the color of the water in the fountain,
it's calling your name.
Listen, the wind is singing you a lullaby
to remind you that all is not lost.
In you I am found
and by me you are revealed.
You don't need to though.
I understand that you need me.
That goes without saying.
When you looked at me with those eyes,
I knew to come to you.
The way you hold yourself has changed
and the way you hold my hand is different.
Why didn't you come sooner?
Didn't you know I would catch you
before you hit the bottom of this pit?
I'm here, now.
See the color of the water in the fountain,
it's calling your name.
Listen, the wind is singing you a lullaby
to remind you that all is not lost.
In you I am found
and by me you are revealed.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Bang Bang
Guns shots!
Where those gun shots?! Heaven help us all. Sara and Jared were in front of me, what are the chances that he got them both? Are they alive? Where will he go next? Breathe, Abby, breathe. What do I do now? We're on the learning side of the hospital so thankfully it's evening and no one is here, but what if he goes to the patient side? He could kill any of them and they would be defenseless to stop him. How do you know what a murderer is capable of? If my gut is right and he shot Sara, he just shot the girl he claimed to love; what kind of love are murderers capable of?
Oh my gosh! Sara. Do I run for help to save other innocent lives, or do I try to find out if Sara and Jared are okay? There were two shots fired. That doesn't mean they were intended for different people. He could have shot Jared twice and taken Sara hostage.
How could he have known where we were, or that Sara had decided to turn on him? She'd just made the decision 45 seconds ago as Jared and I were standing, discussing Chinese food. How could he have known?
He was following her. He was in the elevator and must have seen Sara follow me out into the stairwell. That means I've seen him. Think, Abby, think. Who were the people on the elevator? I know you were emotionally compromised, but people's lives are at risk! Where was he?!
Walking in the elevator there was the couple right in front holding hands, gazing. To the right of them were Sara's sisters (are they safe somewhere now?! Focus!), along with a tall brunette woman carrying a medical chart. In the middle in the back was a doctor I've seen many times before, and to the left of the couple was a patient.
THERE HE IS! On the left in the corner, almost invisible as it were. He's looking down, pretending to be focused on the carpet squares beneath his feet; that has to be him! Okay, focus in. What was he wearing? Grey wife beater with blue sweats (he must have had the gun in his pocket), skater tennis shoes, new, hardly worn.
Wait, they were brand new...
Where those gun shots?! Heaven help us all. Sara and Jared were in front of me, what are the chances that he got them both? Are they alive? Where will he go next? Breathe, Abby, breathe. What do I do now? We're on the learning side of the hospital so thankfully it's evening and no one is here, but what if he goes to the patient side? He could kill any of them and they would be defenseless to stop him. How do you know what a murderer is capable of? If my gut is right and he shot Sara, he just shot the girl he claimed to love; what kind of love are murderers capable of?
Oh my gosh! Sara. Do I run for help to save other innocent lives, or do I try to find out if Sara and Jared are okay? There were two shots fired. That doesn't mean they were intended for different people. He could have shot Jared twice and taken Sara hostage.
How could he have known where we were, or that Sara had decided to turn on him? She'd just made the decision 45 seconds ago as Jared and I were standing, discussing Chinese food. How could he have known?
He was following her. He was in the elevator and must have seen Sara follow me out into the stairwell. That means I've seen him. Think, Abby, think. Who were the people on the elevator? I know you were emotionally compromised, but people's lives are at risk! Where was he?!
Walking in the elevator there was the couple right in front holding hands, gazing. To the right of them were Sara's sisters (are they safe somewhere now?! Focus!), along with a tall brunette woman carrying a medical chart. In the middle in the back was a doctor I've seen many times before, and to the left of the couple was a patient.
THERE HE IS! On the left in the corner, almost invisible as it were. He's looking down, pretending to be focused on the carpet squares beneath his feet; that has to be him! Okay, focus in. What was he wearing? Grey wife beater with blue sweats (he must have had the gun in his pocket), skater tennis shoes, new, hardly worn.
Wait, they were brand new...
Friday, February 24, 2012
Morning time
I love mornings - a little too much I think.
I just can't bring myself to get out of bed sometimes. I love waking up and taking my time to really be apart of the world again. I love opening my eyes of my own free will and just smiling. Then turning on one of my favorite songs to either continue relishing the still-near-sleep state I'm in or to get up and twirl on my way to the bathroom to begin getting ready for the day (it is almost never the latter).
And at that I typically will come back to my bed after getting ready to sit and to ponder if I really am ready to leave my room and start life again.
I think that somewhere along the way I realized that when I leave my room, life begins, but if I stay in my room I get to pretend that life isn't really started and there is still so much beauty, mystery, excitement, and potential about the day ahead, instead of reality.
Hmmm, blogging about this and seeing it in front of me is making me think that I should probably work on this situation - maybe I will, and maybe I won't.
I also at some point love listening to my favorite songs and singing and dancing so much that going out in the freezing cold to catch the bus becomes less and less appealing. Then I rush to grab everything I need at the last possible moment and end up missing the bus by 27 seconds. It really seems to be a giant joke that I still think I'm going to make it every time, and continually get upset when I consistently miss it.
No one is perfect, right?
Who wants to bet that I miss the bus again this morning because I wanted to blog about the morning time more than get ready for life this morning?
Whatever.
Goodnight, dear void.
I just can't bring myself to get out of bed sometimes. I love waking up and taking my time to really be apart of the world again. I love opening my eyes of my own free will and just smiling. Then turning on one of my favorite songs to either continue relishing the still-near-sleep state I'm in or to get up and twirl on my way to the bathroom to begin getting ready for the day (it is almost never the latter).
And at that I typically will come back to my bed after getting ready to sit and to ponder if I really am ready to leave my room and start life again.
I think that somewhere along the way I realized that when I leave my room, life begins, but if I stay in my room I get to pretend that life isn't really started and there is still so much beauty, mystery, excitement, and potential about the day ahead, instead of reality.
Hmmm, blogging about this and seeing it in front of me is making me think that I should probably work on this situation - maybe I will, and maybe I won't.
I also at some point love listening to my favorite songs and singing and dancing so much that going out in the freezing cold to catch the bus becomes less and less appealing. Then I rush to grab everything I need at the last possible moment and end up missing the bus by 27 seconds. It really seems to be a giant joke that I still think I'm going to make it every time, and continually get upset when I consistently miss it.
No one is perfect, right?
Who wants to bet that I miss the bus again this morning because I wanted to blog about the morning time more than get ready for life this morning?
Whatever.
Goodnight, dear void.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
I can't
I don't want to talk to you. How can I tell you that without breaking your heart? You keep messaging me, but what am I supposed to say? You were always the one with the words, so you've always expected me to have words to say back. I try to tell you that I have none; you never find that answer valid or acceptable. I guess it isn't that I don't want to talk to you, it's that I don't know how to. I want you in my life but things won't be any different for you than they are now. And I know that you want different. I can't give it to you though. So what then? What happens when I disappoint you all over again; you know I will. You are always so strong and so alive. I used to pretend to be strong, for your sake. I've never been alive.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Stars
Burning light creating life
flashes in space as time emerges
Busy people rushing to somewhere
leave behind the place they're in
Leaves on trees are blown and gone,
longing for a place to rest
Winter sees Spring behind him,
She waiting patiently
In the quiet moments of my life
I see the cracks where I have fallen
Hills and valleys where I've traveled
make the plateau I stand on tremble
That which governs stars above
has a place in ticking pieces
It speaks of worlds unnumbered
and a home we once had known
Summer fades as Autumn chases
memories of warmth away
As stars created in an instant
so again we, too, return one day
flashes in space as time emerges
Busy people rushing to somewhere
leave behind the place they're in
Leaves on trees are blown and gone,
longing for a place to rest
Winter sees Spring behind him,
She waiting patiently
In the quiet moments of my life
I see the cracks where I have fallen
Hills and valleys where I've traveled
make the plateau I stand on tremble
That which governs stars above
has a place in ticking pieces
It speaks of worlds unnumbered
and a home we once had known
Summer fades as Autumn chases
memories of warmth away
As stars created in an instant
so again we, too, return one day
Realm of Deity, The
The amount of planning that had to happen in order for me to be in this place at this time, having access to the information that I acquired two years ago - combined with the experience I had three years ago - so that I could be in a position to discuss that information with someone else who was actually an earlier piece of information and the amount of crazy maneuvers that had to bring that someone into line with this someone to share that information in the way it was shared tonight speaks of something much larger than the realm of chance and happenstance, it even exceeds the realm of coincidence and enters the realm of Deity where is cannot be denied it need not have left in the first place.
Life is crazy and it is messy.
I believe that there is a plan.
Life just has a way of working out.
Goodnight, dear void.
Life is crazy and it is messy.
I believe that there is a plan.
Life just has a way of working out.
Goodnight, dear void.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Spartacus
I love living a life that was meant to be loved. I don't even care if that sentence didn't even make sense. Who cares. Life is such an amazing and wondrous experience. One of the best parts of that life being the ability to remember the life that has already gone by. Memories are such a beautiful piece of the puzzle. I cannot count on all my fingers and toes the number of nights that I have gotten side tracked from sleeping by my memories. And seven hours later I think, holy moly I am awesome! And my life is ridiculous; I love it!!! Between reading old blog posts and looking at photos from years gone by I get caught up in laughing over and over again about crazy things I did in my past or silly things that somehow came into existence. Like the time my friends buried my in the sand and this photo happened, or when Mari and I went to the Festival of Colors and this happened to our faces. Or how about the time Jenni and I made balloon hats that were beyond epic? Or when Gordon showed me Dividend and we became friends? Or NatAsha's Christmas, Star Trek, 20, engagement ring cake?! The list could go on and on.
From all of this evidence, I draw one simply fantastic conclusion:
I. Am. Awesome.
Goodnight, dear void.
From all of this evidence, I draw one simply fantastic conclusion:
I. Am. Awesome.
Goodnight, dear void.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Tribute to and 80 year old Grandpa
Grandpappy dear,
Turning 80 is no reason to fear.
People have told me that with age
Certain things may begin to fade.
However your rhyming ever will be true
So keep the couplets coming two by two.
These may in effect keep you young in mind,
Though not as much may be said of your behind.
Colorful vocabulary may too be at fault
For keeping your age in the eternal vault.
Consequently this new age should cause no fret
But just in case, I’ll be around to keep the rhyming up yet!
Turning 80 is no reason to fear.
People have told me that with age
Certain things may begin to fade.
However your rhyming ever will be true
So keep the couplets coming two by two.
These may in effect keep you young in mind,
Though not as much may be said of your behind.
Colorful vocabulary may too be at fault
For keeping your age in the eternal vault.
Consequently this new age should cause no fret
But just in case, I’ll be around to keep the rhyming up yet!
Monday, February 13, 2012
Running from her eyes
He'd run away. It had been such a long time, and he hardly ever looked back; he hardly remembered those days. Now they were staring right back at him in those eyes of hers. Why did she have to have those eyes? Eyes that were deep and longing. Eyes that held pain and anguish, like he'd only ever seen reflected in his own eyes when he looked at himself in the mirror. Her eyes scared him. Eyes filled with questions, searching for answers. Was this what she saw looking into his eyes. Did she ever find answers to her questions in his eyes they way he sometimes found in hers? Ultimately though he wasn't looking for answers to his questions, so much as he was looking for a place where it was okay to have unanswered questions; a place he didn't have to run from because he didn't have all the answers. That place didn't seem to be in her eyes, so he would start running...
All Along
Have you ever missed someone and you don't really know why?
Ever loved someone and you didn't know how to tell them?
What do you do when you feel so vulnerable, but they don't see?
How do you show them the way they make you feel?
The light shines through the window and catches his hair.
The tables around them are filled with chattering voices.
His eyes look deep into hers as if he is looking for something he still cannot find.
When in his eyes she finds all she will ever need.
Dinner conversation is dying out but he doesn't want things to end.
He tries to prolong the inevitable but there is no other way for things to be.
No matter how he tries he will never love her.
No matter how she tries she cannot ever let him in
to see that what he has been looking for has been there all along.
Ever loved someone and you didn't know how to tell them?
What do you do when you feel so vulnerable, but they don't see?
How do you show them the way they make you feel?
The light shines through the window and catches his hair.
The tables around them are filled with chattering voices.
His eyes look deep into hers as if he is looking for something he still cannot find.
When in his eyes she finds all she will ever need.
Dinner conversation is dying out but he doesn't want things to end.
He tries to prolong the inevitable but there is no other way for things to be.
No matter how he tries he will never love her.
No matter how she tries she cannot ever let him in
to see that what he has been looking for has been there all along.
Monday, February 6, 2012
If I were a Red Sweater
There's a red sweater on my floor. It speaks to me and tells me a story of a life I haven't known. Sometimes when I try to imagine the things I might say if I were the same red sweater; they would be different. What would the red sweater say if it were me? Would it highlight the same areas of my story as I do? Would it tell of Latin and Greek and English and French, or would it choose to focus on the colors of my story - red, blue, Yellow, green, pink, black? Life looks very different in the eyes of a sweater. Suddenly my life is not a story of events, it is a catalog of simplicity and wonder much like a one year old's perception where time and events are not the center of focus, rather colors and sounds - blue sky, green grass, yellow sun, train, airplane, bird, Mom. It's amazing how life changes when you look through the eyes of a read sweater.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Rite of Passage?
I got carded tonight. I walked into a bar for a diet coke and a woman asked to see my ID. As I pulled it out and handed it over to the scanner, I felt a twinge in my stomach. I'm 21. This shouldn't have come as a great shock; after all, I have been 21 for 359 days already. I only have 6 days left of being 21, and yet, it wasn't until I handed that lady my horizontal driver's license that it really hit me; I am 21. And with that age comes quite a lot of life history. But, I am still just a baby. I have experienced over two decades worth of change and progress, yet ahead of me lies many more decades of upheaval and growth.
Sitting at the bar sipping my soda I felt out of place. I seemed too young to be able to sit there on that stool branded with the age of the black-lipped stamp on my wrist that seemed to scream to everyone there that I wasn't a wide-eyed 18 year old girl anymore. I was a card-carrying member of adult society, granted that stool as a result of my age. My age. 21 years of my age.
This time next week I will be 22. Life doesn't slow down for anyone; if you blink you just might miss it.
Last night I was at a party and someone asked me which of my skills was my favorite. I had to take a moment to think about it and then replied that I love that I can make an adventure out of anything. I learned that skill from my mother and grandmother. They had a way of making everything seem like it was glittering with magic and intrigue. I remember one section of my childhood when my mom was trying to make exercising seem more appealing, so she would put music on in the living room and make up dance routines with me and my little sister. We would dance and dance and laugh ourselves silly. We had so much fun.
I may have been a wee bit uncomfortable with my age tonight, but I at least could look back at the last 21 years and see adventure at every turn; somehow it makes it seem more real. There is no way a person could fit so much adventure in anything less than 21 fabulous years.
I am 21 as I quite deserve to be.
Goodnight, dear void.
Sitting at the bar sipping my soda I felt out of place. I seemed too young to be able to sit there on that stool branded with the age of the black-lipped stamp on my wrist that seemed to scream to everyone there that I wasn't a wide-eyed 18 year old girl anymore. I was a card-carrying member of adult society, granted that stool as a result of my age. My age. 21 years of my age.
This time next week I will be 22. Life doesn't slow down for anyone; if you blink you just might miss it.
Last night I was at a party and someone asked me which of my skills was my favorite. I had to take a moment to think about it and then replied that I love that I can make an adventure out of anything. I learned that skill from my mother and grandmother. They had a way of making everything seem like it was glittering with magic and intrigue. I remember one section of my childhood when my mom was trying to make exercising seem more appealing, so she would put music on in the living room and make up dance routines with me and my little sister. We would dance and dance and laugh ourselves silly. We had so much fun.
I may have been a wee bit uncomfortable with my age tonight, but I at least could look back at the last 21 years and see adventure at every turn; somehow it makes it seem more real. There is no way a person could fit so much adventure in anything less than 21 fabulous years.
I am 21 as I quite deserve to be.
Goodnight, dear void.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
More than it all
Smile, you're safe now. Laugh, I'm here now. I know you were frightened. I know you didn't know where to turn. But I'm here now;I will hold your hand. Feel my heartbeat against your chest and know that I'm not leaving you alone again. Speak the words you've kept hidden for so long; I am listening. Why were you frightened? Why were you running? Did you see something something out there in the world? What did you see? What did you hear? Breathe, you have time now to catch your breath. There is nothing behind you waiting for you to rest to seize you and drag you backwards in time. Live, nothing is stopping you now. Love, it is the key to everything in life. More than all of it, love.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Provo Tabernacle
The Provo Tabernacle caught fire. The inside was destroyed. Now it's going to be a new Temple for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I used to think my life was broken, or completely destroyed. Turns out sometimes you have to have your life fall apart completely before it can be rebuilt into something even better than its original form.
Just when I thought God had forgotten me entirely, I found He'd actually been keeping me closer at hand than ever before; I just had to open my eyes and see it.
He was building a Temple while I was crying over the burned Tabernacle.
Goodnight, dear void.
I used to think my life was broken, or completely destroyed. Turns out sometimes you have to have your life fall apart completely before it can be rebuilt into something even better than its original form.
Just when I thought God had forgotten me entirely, I found He'd actually been keeping me closer at hand than ever before; I just had to open my eyes and see it.
He was building a Temple while I was crying over the burned Tabernacle.
Goodnight, dear void.
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