I love love LOVE how music makes me feel things. Adam Young of Owl City (who I feel a strange and imagined connection to because he's from Minnesota and also one of Jenessa's many famous friends) is releasing some of his previous work under the name Sky Sailing, and I, on a whim, pre-ordered it. Part of the deal was that they give you one song upfront, so that's what I'm listening to right now. It's called "Brielle". I love guitar. Ah, what refreshing greatness.
I like that music reassures me of who I am and how things are. It's awesome that you can literally hear the way things are for you in life. Does that make sense to anyone else? It isn't even necessarily about the lyrics... I love hearing a song and then thinking "that's me- right there- if my soul could sound like something, it would sound like that." I love it so much because some other person created that. It makes me feel less alone to think that somebody else's soul looks like mine from time to time. Pretty awesome.
I'm never afraid to get caught up in a song. Ever.
No matter how much I fall for a song, it doesn't harm me- it can only enhance my musical tastes, capacity for emotion, love of art, and need to experience. In the middle of a song, I'm not afraid. In the middle of a song, anything is possible and time passes unnoticed. I love that a song is a moment, not just four minutes and six seconds. Songs are home to me. Oh what a concept, a song.
Life seems containable when it's taken in dosages measured by moments. Maybe it's because I started working in a pharmacy this week that's causing me to think of it as a prescription- I can see it now; "take one moment daily" it says on the label, with a green sticker instructing me to take each moment with music and inspiration before noon.
It feels good for my heart to be stimulated. Like a deep, fresh breath of air, here I am. If you ever need to find me- this is where I'll be. This is where I'll be hiding, waiting for the coast to clear. Please don't be afraid to look.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
ohhh blogging.
It's funny to me at times that I have a blog. I read Ellie and Chelsea's blogs and, well, they have blogs because they're in stinkin COSTA RICA...and I have a blog because, well...? I guess it's important to write during the slumber-like seasons of transition. Everything is new and familiar at the same time, it's so strange. In some ways, everything deserves to be documented somehow.
I was talking to Abi the other day on the phone, which to be honest was something I felt myself resisting (I mean, come on, who actually TALKS to their friends anymore... oh, wait, is it just me?), but she was telling me about an encounter she had with her 5 year old sister. I guess Rory was saying that she hated herself, and Abi at first tried to comfort her or encourage her, but then proceeded to tell her that she was being selfish (what guts!) and directed Rory to think of 5 positive/good things about herself. And I guess by the time she got to the 5th thing, she was happier and grateful to Abi for helping her. It seems that self-discipline can get you out of the addicting quicksand that is self-pity.
I won't lie, I've never ever been good at self-discipline. Because of that, I make unnecessary excuses that I later feel guilty for, procrastinate, cut corners when possible, and become more hardened to positive change as the days go on. There are a lot of excuses I could make, but at the end of the day they don't really matter. I think what matters is just...trying to always be better- "better" as in my overall health. I don't take care of myself, and I think I need to stop living a sob story and start actually trying to change the way I live. Oh the power of Believe.
I've realized that so far this summer, I've been doing things I know I need to do, but my heart has been no where near it. I'm realizing that deep down I just want to fill a formula and not be engaged. I'm not interested in really making new friends- actual friends, so I just show up to events and laugh and smile and put on a friendly exterior. Deep down I know I'm scared to make friends. I'm scared of people. It seems that most times they end up hurting you, even the ones you're sure would never. I guess I'm still bitter. Getting hurt always turns me off to people. It's a lot easier to exist to people as a cardboard cut-out instead of as a living breathing person with a past and issues and real feelings. I like to feel like new people aren't going to ask me about any of that. I'd rather impress them with my politeness, ease in laughter, and quiet kindness. I'd rather them not ask me about school, about friends, about the depressed side of me that's tied to them both.
I don't know how to do things the right way. I want to think I do. I don't know how to look like or be the Christian girls you see running around serving people and God. I'm a little too insecure, I think. I hate that word. Insecure. Beth Moore's right, insecurity is a form of selfishness. I'm obsessed with figuring out how many ways I fall short. I used to be able to analyze a flaw of mine, or a period of hurt in my life, and then let it go and change accordingly. But now I find that I've omitted the second and most crucial step of that healing process. I'm good at acknowledging, but not good at changing. For some reason I want to feel stuck with me.
It's easier to not feel attached. I'm more comfortable being at a distance from everyone, even if that means I'm being left out. It doesn't matter to me as long as it's my choice. If I'm being left out by people who didn't use to leave me out- by people who I don't want to be left out by, well, then there's problems. Then they just make me feel worthless and discarded. But if I'm the one deciding to not be included...it's just a coping mechanism, and well, let's face it, I have my fair share of those.
Well, this hitting too close to my heart and I don't want to go any deeper, so I'll abruptly stop now, lest it become unbearably long and directionless.
I was talking to Abi the other day on the phone, which to be honest was something I felt myself resisting (I mean, come on, who actually TALKS to their friends anymore... oh, wait, is it just me?), but she was telling me about an encounter she had with her 5 year old sister. I guess Rory was saying that she hated herself, and Abi at first tried to comfort her or encourage her, but then proceeded to tell her that she was being selfish (what guts!) and directed Rory to think of 5 positive/good things about herself. And I guess by the time she got to the 5th thing, she was happier and grateful to Abi for helping her. It seems that self-discipline can get you out of the addicting quicksand that is self-pity.
I won't lie, I've never ever been good at self-discipline. Because of that, I make unnecessary excuses that I later feel guilty for, procrastinate, cut corners when possible, and become more hardened to positive change as the days go on. There are a lot of excuses I could make, but at the end of the day they don't really matter. I think what matters is just...trying to always be better- "better" as in my overall health. I don't take care of myself, and I think I need to stop living a sob story and start actually trying to change the way I live. Oh the power of Believe.
I've realized that so far this summer, I've been doing things I know I need to do, but my heart has been no where near it. I'm realizing that deep down I just want to fill a formula and not be engaged. I'm not interested in really making new friends- actual friends, so I just show up to events and laugh and smile and put on a friendly exterior. Deep down I know I'm scared to make friends. I'm scared of people. It seems that most times they end up hurting you, even the ones you're sure would never. I guess I'm still bitter. Getting hurt always turns me off to people. It's a lot easier to exist to people as a cardboard cut-out instead of as a living breathing person with a past and issues and real feelings. I like to feel like new people aren't going to ask me about any of that. I'd rather impress them with my politeness, ease in laughter, and quiet kindness. I'd rather them not ask me about school, about friends, about the depressed side of me that's tied to them both.
I don't know how to do things the right way. I want to think I do. I don't know how to look like or be the Christian girls you see running around serving people and God. I'm a little too insecure, I think. I hate that word. Insecure. Beth Moore's right, insecurity is a form of selfishness. I'm obsessed with figuring out how many ways I fall short. I used to be able to analyze a flaw of mine, or a period of hurt in my life, and then let it go and change accordingly. But now I find that I've omitted the second and most crucial step of that healing process. I'm good at acknowledging, but not good at changing. For some reason I want to feel stuck with me.
It's easier to not feel attached. I'm more comfortable being at a distance from everyone, even if that means I'm being left out. It doesn't matter to me as long as it's my choice. If I'm being left out by people who didn't use to leave me out- by people who I don't want to be left out by, well, then there's problems. Then they just make me feel worthless and discarded. But if I'm the one deciding to not be included...it's just a coping mechanism, and well, let's face it, I have my fair share of those.
Well, this hitting too close to my heart and I don't want to go any deeper, so I'll abruptly stop now, lest it become unbearably long and directionless.
Monday, June 14, 2010
[if you lay your weapon down]
Is this really what I want? Is this really the road I want to go down? I don't have to. If I don't want to, I don't have to. I can choose to believe that this is the bottom- I can choose to raise my hands despite the blood on them, despite my guilty sentence. I can choose to ask for help, I can choose to give it up. Right now can be the moment if I want it to be. I can throw in the dirty towel now if I want to, if I know what's good for me- if I'm interested in doing what is good for me. I don't have to be a slave to sin, and I don't have to live in a feeling of choice-less mania. "i swear to God we're going to get it right, if you lay your weapon down" Change can be possible...I have to believe that, despite how negatively I see myself. I'm redeemed and forgiven...but I never ever live that way. Will I continue to choose the self-destructive me just because I feel like it's the only thing I feel like I have left?
You've gotten rid of everything else...You've taken everything else out of my hands...and I see now that the last thing to go...is me. You want me too.
You're going to give me new things. New attitudes, new outlooks, new perspectives, new ideas, new hobbies, new friends, new talents, new gifts, new strengths, new goals, new ambition...new everything.
And there's nothing I can do about it. I can't do anything about how You work, how You love, why You're the way You are. My job is to just be obedient and hang in there for the ride.
I know I'm bad at keeping up my end of the bargain. I'm a messy Christian. Everything I touch turns to mess without You around. I don't understand anything, but I have to be okay with that.
I don't have to need them to be what You are. I don't have to need them to do everything they ought to. I don't need what I resort to.
I feel like I've been carrying around this stifled sense of unhappiness and passive aggressiveness since getting home. It's never a good thing when I'm choosing to have a lack of words. I'm good at disappearing when it seems convenient. It's easy for me to dodge the spotlight and dart away from attention when I want to be invisible. When I want to pretend like there's nothing wrong. And then on some level I resent those closest to me for not noticing. I'm so good at making things not easy. Simplicity just isn't quite my style, I guess. Intimacy terrifies me in some ways, and yet I am desperate for it. I don't have to be afraid of what I need. It's okay to want things. It's okay to make the right choices, even if they're difficult. It's okay to breathe and keep going. It's okay to do what makes me happy. It's okay to be happy. It's okay to let go- sometimes- when it means I'm not cutting people out of my life because it's easier and I don't want to get hurt. I don't have to wait to become my worst before I can become my best. Knowing the limits of my depravity is not more important than knowing the limitlessness of my potential.
You've taken things from me, but You've given me good things- You've given me good things. And I know I always try to rationalize Your goodness and capacity to give. Deep down I find it hard to believe that I can't deserve to be forgiven, that I can't deserve good things. I always try so hard to figure You out but I have yet to do it.
All of these introductory words I've said aside, what I think is most important to say is:
I'm sorry. For someone who loathes herself, I am unusually good at putting my problems before You. Even though I hate that I have to keep starting over, I'm grateful that in times like this that is my only real option. After everything, I still am glad that I "bear that name".
You've gotten rid of everything else...You've taken everything else out of my hands...and I see now that the last thing to go...is me. You want me too.
You're going to give me new things. New attitudes, new outlooks, new perspectives, new ideas, new hobbies, new friends, new talents, new gifts, new strengths, new goals, new ambition...new everything.
And there's nothing I can do about it. I can't do anything about how You work, how You love, why You're the way You are. My job is to just be obedient and hang in there for the ride.
I know I'm bad at keeping up my end of the bargain. I'm a messy Christian. Everything I touch turns to mess without You around. I don't understand anything, but I have to be okay with that.
I don't have to need them to be what You are. I don't have to need them to do everything they ought to. I don't need what I resort to.
I feel like I've been carrying around this stifled sense of unhappiness and passive aggressiveness since getting home. It's never a good thing when I'm choosing to have a lack of words. I'm good at disappearing when it seems convenient. It's easy for me to dodge the spotlight and dart away from attention when I want to be invisible. When I want to pretend like there's nothing wrong. And then on some level I resent those closest to me for not noticing. I'm so good at making things not easy. Simplicity just isn't quite my style, I guess. Intimacy terrifies me in some ways, and yet I am desperate for it. I don't have to be afraid of what I need. It's okay to want things. It's okay to make the right choices, even if they're difficult. It's okay to breathe and keep going. It's okay to do what makes me happy. It's okay to be happy. It's okay to let go- sometimes- when it means I'm not cutting people out of my life because it's easier and I don't want to get hurt. I don't have to wait to become my worst before I can become my best. Knowing the limits of my depravity is not more important than knowing the limitlessness of my potential.
You've taken things from me, but You've given me good things- You've given me good things. And I know I always try to rationalize Your goodness and capacity to give. Deep down I find it hard to believe that I can't deserve to be forgiven, that I can't deserve good things. I always try so hard to figure You out but I have yet to do it.
All of these introductory words I've said aside, what I think is most important to say is:
I'm sorry. For someone who loathes herself, I am unusually good at putting my problems before You. Even though I hate that I have to keep starting over, I'm grateful that in times like this that is my only real option. After everything, I still am glad that I "bear that name".
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