Inspiration Comes in Many Forms

"Scrapes of the heart are those things that dig at us. It's our burning questions, our frustrations, our failures, our pain and angers. Scrapes of the heart are uncomfortable because we try to bury them in a place where talking is unnecessary."-blog post (www.wisdomfromthemiddle.blogspot.com)

There are times when I wish I was still in elementary school, and my hardest decision was what to play at recess. Now, I hate choosing between favorites. Why must I choose between something when little boys across America get to have two favorite super heroes. What if my super heroes are writing and dancing instead of Superman and Batman? Does it really matter in the long run?

Summer Rose

"You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will live as one."-John Lennon

As I draw in that final breath

I know that I am ready

Tomorrow, whatever happens

I'll be waiting and excited

I pray everyday that the next day

I'll still be me

even when winter rains and freezes

I'll still be me

And when I feel myself slipping away

I'll close my eyes and remember

the swaying palm trees, the rigid mountains

the feel of the ocean breeze on my skin

my new friends and the freedom I had to fly

Then I'll again be myself:

the Summer Rose dead in the cold of winter

but not anymore, this time

I'll be the Summer Rose

that lives forever

Just Be Yourself

"Be yourself; everyone else is already taken."-Oscar Wilde

Haven't we all heard that one before. I'm sure if you ask anyone that knows me they'll say that I know who I am and what I want and that I know where I'm going, but I don't. And that's exactly my point. Even if I look as free as the bird singing out your window, sometimes I feel that there are chains shackled to me. Holding me tight. I feel like everyone wants an answer. What are you going to be when you grow up? Don't you remember being asked that by your parents? For a while, I thought it was just a fun game like I Spy, but one day, it dawned on me that my parents were curious as to what I wanted to be so that they could prepare me for just that-even if I was just seven years old. Maybe that's not true, but that's what it feels like to me. What if I had said that I wanted to be a free spirit when I grew up? What would they have done then? Told me that it wasn't a career or that it didn't give me money to support myself. It's just like when a kid says that he wants to be Superman when he grows up. They all immediately team up to discourage the little boy from being a hero and saving lives with a cape on. A badge is much better suiting. I think this is where the lack of male dreamers stems from. Boys dream too, it's just that sometimes, their dreams are different. The people that I'm most scared to be myself around are sometimes my family and friends. Because what I want would inconvenience them, so why wish for something so selfish when I can keep it to myself and just move on, being happy with what I've always had. Even if it's different now. I've been scared to answer questions with a justifiable I don't know. Sometimes, I just. Don't. Know. And that's okay. I don't have to know what I want to be when I grow up. I can want to be a dozen different things at the same time and not know which one I'll choose until I look up and realize my surroundings and that I'm actually doing it. Until then, world, I just don't know is who I am.

Truer Still

"Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it."- C.S. Lewis

Sometimes it seems we get caught up in the performance of everyday life, and then we forget the simple truth of it all. The truth seems so easy to forget that we must be throwing it out the window as we speed down the highway. It feels good to get back to home-the truth. It's like smelling a familiar scent again. The memories come flooding back in. Suddenly, you're yourself again, your favorite book isn't the latest Twilight installment just because that's what everyone else is reading, your favorite band has about twenty fans because its the local band that practices in the garage down the street, not Justin Bieber. Your mind's all confused because you got caught up in what everyone was saying that you don't know what to believe. Now is the time to clear your mind and realize that what you knew all along is the truth and there never should've been any confusion. I just love those moments when all is clear, but it seems that there are all too few of these encounters with the truth. I guess we all need to work a little harder at listening for the truth amongst the lies of the world.

The End

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."-A.A. Milne

For a full week, thirty kids were family. Coming from different countries with different backgrounds, somehow they all meshed into one. Inside jokes to forever be remembered, crazy pictures, and forever friends all come out of the deal. The schedule is packed with loads of activities that too soon the week is over. The tight breath-taking hugs are passed around and final 'I'll add you on facebook' words are said. The suitcases are packed and tears fall shamelessly down their faces while they squeeze in one more inside joke. Leaving family is never easy. Even the ones who were yelling the whole week are dearly loved and missed. No more awesome shimming and impromptu dance parties at nine-thirty at night. The end is so bittersweet. The end is never welcomed in anything, for any reason. Why would one want to leave sunny southern California or amazing friends that so suddenly became family? There is no reason for the end. What's the point when the real story is only half over? So say one final goodbye and know that this isn't the end. Not even close.

Intersection

"'This is it!' he said. 'This is where we are. Somewhere in the middle. Kind of like being right in the middle of the street.'"-Todd (Robin Jones Gunn Yours Forever)

Forever is the intersection at 32nd and Newport. Green. Yellow. Red. And back again. Daily, cars zoom through and think nothing of it, but today, today I stand in the intersection and gaze at the surroundings. The whipping wind and the swaying palm trees. As I stop traffic for my own pleasure and enjoyment and fulfilment, I am complete. This is me. This is it, I think to myself as I spin slowly and memorize the sights and smells. Gus! I see Gus! What an ironic and amazing miracle of timing in this slowed down frozen moment in life. It's one of a kind. It's organic and inconvenient and that's what makes it real. My heart swells just thinking of what this place and time means. I am giddy and whole and for one moment, I understand the meaning of life. It is the intersection at 32nd and Newport.

Ninjas, Moustaches, and a little thing called California

"Every traveler has a home of his own, and he learns to appreciate it the more from his wandering."-Charles Dickens

First, I must apologize for being absent for nearly two weeks. I was on vacation and without a computer; therefore, I couldn't blog, and I missed it dearly.

California is different. They don't have sweet tea. They don't have midnight performances by singing crickets. They do, on the other hand, have amazing weather and they have entire stores dedicated to socks! I love socks. The crazier the better. Mismatched, roses, Hello Kitty, Snow White, stripes, stars- you name it and they have it. It was awesome. I also made many friends while I was there. They come from all over the world-Canada, Mexico, Kazakhstan, England, and the United States. I miss them terribly. But I've missed home, too. I missed all my creative writing buddies-Anna, Mary Margaret, Hannah, and Ms. Monda. I missed my friends and family and, well, just home. All around. Now, I must see about dinner and sneaking off with the Season Three DVD of Psych with deleted scenes and audio commentary of my favorite season! By the way, Sage Brocklebank is totally my favorite even if Dule Hill can tap dance awesomely.