Category: Rambling

Prompts

I’ve been looking up different creative writing prompts. I like writing. I want to write something more than my own journal-y ramblings (in my real journal and here). Of course, the only way to be a writer is to just start writing.

Alas, I don’t feel like many of the events and stories I might want to share are really that interesting to anyone.  Really, who wants to read The Adventures of SPED (special education)?

Or, if my stories are interesting…they probably shouldn’t be shared with the general public because they’re not just about me. They’re about that wedding I was in, that Ultimate team I played on, (oh the prepositional horror I’m in right now) that class I took, (well that’s better, no ending with a preposition there. oh grammar) that family I love.  Other people are involved–they’re not just my stories to tell. I can be hurtful enough with the words I speak, so I’d rather not hurt more with the words I write.

The logical answer to those questions is fiction. However, I’m not very good at fiction, because I have a hard time writing about things I haven’t experienced myself.  I’m working on it, though.  One method (in the last, oh five minutes) was to take a glance at one of the millions of creative writing prompts available on websites.  Many look intriguing–but all I can think to write about is a personal story. I mean, some of them demand personal stories, like this one:

Write a formal complaint letter to your deepest, darkest fear.

I don’t think writing to be shared with others has to be so personal as to relate one’s deepest, darkest fear (though writing a formal complaint to that sounds fascinating), I think writing ought to be personal. I just. . .don’t know how to balance those competing forces of being personal and real with being respectful of the privacy of myself and others.

Next month is NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month. My life is such that attempting that (writing a novel of at least 50,000 words in the month of November) would be suicide. However, thinking about NaNoWriMo makes me want to at least try to write something.

I just don’t know what.

Too Much

I have a lot to think about.  And it’s really too much.  I pile on responsibilities, goals, ambitions. When one of my paths to something shifts out of my control, it makes me overthink. Then it’s 11:30 and I have to wake up in 6 hours and I know what staying up late does to me on Tuesday mornings but I don’t fall asleep anyway and I wish I could go to Homecoming.

Conundrum

I’m sitting on a screened-in porch. I love screened-in porches. Whenever I have my own home, I want one.

Sitting here on this porch, I think I just accepted something that I don’t really want to accept. I think and think and think about some subjects, mulling over a decision or a problem or a conundrum.

I’ve been thinking about his particular conundrum for about a year. And sometimes, my head and my heart actually join together and decide: “You’ve thought enough. You’re done. This is how it’s going to be.  Accept it. Embrace it. Obsess over something else.”

Apparently sometimes is now.

I reserve the right to unaccept it later.

God Uses Change?

The truth is, God uses change to change us.  He doesn’t use it to destroy us or to distract us but to coax us to the next level of character, experience, compassion, and destiny.  I hate to display such a firm grasp of the obvious, but how will we ever change if everything around us stays the same? Or what will ever cause us to move on to the next place He has for us if something doesn’t happen to change the way we feel about where we are? God is thoroughly committed to finishing the masterpiece he started in us (Philippians 1:6), and that process means one major thing: change.

Beth Moore, So Long, Insecurity: You’ve Been a Bad Friend to Us, p. 80

Graduate

I am a college graduate, as of May 8, 2010.

I am happy and content.  I’m sad to leave this season, these friends, this time of my life.  But this season is over and it’s time for a new setting.

And to any friends reading this…you’re stuck with me.  In all the change that is swirling around us…we’re still friends.

I have more words about this whole graduation business, but not now.  It’s time to rest.

Good job May. Keep it up.

22

I’m 22 now. And I had such a good, full birthday that I’m up now late into the night finishing up my preparations for my Senior Seminar presentation.

I spent my day with some of the people I love the most–whom I won’t see frequently after the next few weeks.  Let’s not think about that right now.

In nine hours, I will be done. I will be free of Senior Seminar.  This is quite possibly one of the most exciting things that has happened to me in awhile.

Will I be less busy? No, of course not.

Good job April. Yesterday was a good day.

Lord, make life beautiful.

April Thus Far

April thus far has had mixed results.

My Senior Seminar paper is finally completed. I still have a presentation, but the paper is done. Of course, as I looked up a quote in it this evening for another paper, I found a typo.  It was 43 pages–there were probably more typos.  Hallelujah, I’m done with that paper.

It was just getting to the completed state that was difficult. And challenging. And stressful.  I don’t really know how I’ve managed to live my life this “April Thus Far.”  So much of life lately has been nutty, busy, crazy, and just plain ridiculous.  Some of that was fun. Some if it was not.

Despite the mixed results thus far, I remain confident that April will finish miles ahead of March.  The crazy won’t end–it never will.

In fact, I shouldn’t be writing this post at all. I should be finishing my 10-11 page paper on theology of disability that’s due tommorow or studying for my American Government test that’s tomorrow or reading for the president’s class or cleaning my room or preparing for my summer or any number of things.  However, lately, I have been choosing mental and emotional health over certain responsibilities. Like going to visit a best friend I hadn’t really talked to since beginning of February or going to Ultimate practice–when I should have been homeworking.  Somehow, though, everything gets done.

Time now to finish a research paper.  After writing a 43 page opus, adding five pages to a paper that needs to total 10 is no big deal.

April: please proceed awesomely. I’m depending on you.

Fabulous

I just spent a week in Jackson, Mississippi.  As the title of this post suggests, it was fabulous. I want to write on and process all of it.

However.

Real life is here. And sometimes, real life is unpleasant. I have wanted to scream a thousand times in the last couple days. On occasion, I have. Even though I need to process my trip…I can’t. I don’t have time.

I am overwhelmed.  With the exception of the bright and glorious sunshine that was my spring break in Jackson, March has been filled with frustration.  March is almost over. April, my most favorite of months is about to be here.

April 2010. Don’t disappoint. Please be as fabulous as other Aprils (except 2008, when I was sick on my birthday. Not ok, April, not ok) of my life. Attempt to be as fabulous as Jackson 2010.

If April goes well, I will officially remove my trip to Jackson from March to April in my head. If April doesn’t go well…..

I’d rather not think about that possibility.

The end of March has been just as frustrating as the beginning. March held such terrifying promise, only to be more terrifying than promising.  Yes, I realize that sounds crazy. If you lived in my head, it would make more sense.

April means many wonderful things: Easter, my birthday, spring, the winding down of the school year (although this year I have more mixed feelings about that than usual, seeing as this is my last traditional school year ever), the finishing up of projects, flowers, warm weather, and more.

April, come quickly.  And please, don’t disappoint.

Lord, come quickly. And please, send me a memo.

WordPress, you better press this. And please, send me freshly pressed apple juice.

Literature Review

This was supposed to be published on March 10. It wasn’t. It’s now March 29. WordPress, you fail. When I hit publish, I want you to publish. I shouldn’t need to triple check that a post has published.

I’m in the midst of writing my literature review of my senior seminar. I should be working on that instead of writing this.  However, I am distracted.

I’m only 10 days into March 2010 and already my life is vastly different from February 28, from January 31, from December 31.  I knew March 2010 would change my life and it will continue to do so.  Some of these March 2010 days are harder than others.

Too much is floating around in my head. This is unfortunate, because I’d like my thoughts to focus on this ginormous project I’m attempting to complete.  Other people’s problems and crazy, world events, classes that are wasting my time, arguments and frustration with the Lord, heart confusion, my own crazy, and more are competing with my researching and writing on church ministry to children with special needs.

I’m trying to enjoy the process, the journey, the path.  Right now, I’d like to put my responsibilities on pause and just do something completely crazy.

Alas. I don’t have time for that.

March

Well, today I realized that two of my posts were saved as drafts instead of being published. This was really annoying. Especially because both were time related.  The first was about the start of February and the second was about my first Ultimate Tournament. I don’t know how this misshelving of posts happened, but it did.

So, March. It’s here. And just as I thought in February, it will probably be terrifying. I just hope there will be some good parts, too.

I just hope it will be warm.

First Tournament

This was also supposed to be published a while back. On February 21, actually. Fail WordPress. Fail. Here it is now on March 1 but with the appropriate date.

This weekend I played in my first Ultimate Frisbee tournament.

I was terrified. Which was why I did it. My theme for myself this year is: “Don’t live in fear.” So if I’m afraid of something…I push myself to do it. [This does not include skydiving, lugeing/skeletoning at Whistler in Vancouver, playing with matches, driving unsafely, or any other such nonsense.  The fears involved with those things are healthy.]  Following this theme has manifested itself mostly in starting to play Ultimate Frisbee.

I swear, I lost my mind when I decided to start playing Ultimate this, my last semester of my senior year of college.  In addition to losing my mind, though,  I also let go of some fear, slowly and without realizing it at first.  It was only at the tournament this weekend that I realized how much fear had left me.

My fear of playing Ultimate was failing. I fear failure like nobody’s business. At least, I did. Somehow, I don’t really fear failure as much anymore.  Before I started to play, I feared failing in these ways (and this is by no means an exhaustive list): throwing a frisbee, running, letting down the team by my failures, and being so clumsy/unathletic that I just wouldn’t be able to play at all.

Here’s the thing. I fail at Ultimate. A lot. I throw the frisbee the wrong way. I hit people when I’m aiming for other people. I run the wrong direction on the field. I can’t run an end zone drill properly to save my life. I can’t run fast enough to the end zone to catch a hucked frisbee. I can’t run fast AT ALL. This list could go on forever.

Here’s the thing [again].  I don’t fear that failure anymore.  I know it’s going to happen. And somehow, my acceptance of that failure takes away the fear of it.

And that? That ridding of fear?  Makes all the crazy in my life, especially the Ultimate-related crazy, worth it.

So many times this semester (and oy vey, it’s only February. also, oy vey, it’s already February), I’ve cried out to God saying, “What are you doing? What in the world are you doing to/with my life? This is crazy.”  I still don’t know what he’s doing, because I’m pretty sure He isn’t done yet.  But this whole ridding of fear business? I like that. I like that a lot.

I just wonder….

What’s next?

And until I get that information…I just keep going.

February

This was supposed to be published on February 1st. It wasn’t. So here it is now…in March, but with the appropriate date.

February starts in less than half an hour.

How did that happen?  January has swooshed by in a blur of the beginning of my last semester in college and the start of many new, crazy things in my life.

February promises to be just as exciting.

March may be terrifying, though.

Time marches onward much too quickly for my taste.  It’s hard to live in the moment and embrace each day as it comes.  It’s hard to have faith that “things” will work out the way they should.

But I have to. And they will.

I still want freshly pressed apple juice. Thanks WordPress for always reminding me of my desire for said juice with a link for “freshly pressed posts.” Oi.

Where Am I Going?

I like taking pictures of my feet in different places. This place is Columba's Bay on Iona

Sometimes, I have no idea where I am going. I love having a plan, a map, a guide. But sometimes I have to cast aside any notion of a plan and just go where I am going.

This is terrifying.

For whatever reason, I often take pictures of my feet.  It’s a way of remembering where I’ve been.  It’s also an inspiration to keep on going.  My feet have stepped (in the case of the above picture) where saints have walked. Where history was made. Where almost nothing happened. Where someone died. Where someone lived.

I look back to remember why I am going forward.  I think of memories (some painful, some glorious, some dull) and see how those experiences have shaped me into who I am.  Sometimes I like how they have shaped me. Sometimes I do not.  Whichever way the memory runs, remembering encourages me to keep going.

Where am I going?

Where will my feet be pictured next?

Christmas Time Is Here

Christmas Time Is Here, but only for a few more minutes. Christmas 2009 is almost over.  I am in Ohio where there is no snow.  Oklahoma, where I usually am, had a White Christmas.  Who knew that down south there would be a blizzard while up north there would be…rain. Bing didn’t write I’m Dreaming of a Wet Christmas for a reason.

Fortunately, my happiness on Christmas is not weather-dependent, so long as everyone is where they are supposed to be and not trapped by the weather.  And this Christmas, everyone was in the proper place.

This Christmas has been lovely.

I need to listen to some more Charlie Brown Christmas before it becomes socially unacceptable to listen to Christmas music.

My brain keeps wanting to add as a postscript: Christ is risen.  Even though we’re celebrating His birth and not His resurrection.  But it’s always a good time to celebrate His resurrection. So, again:

Christ is risen.