I've never considered myself a poet by any means. I've never really enjoyed reading poetry, and I've often been too picky to write poetry of my own.
However.
This semester I took Writing and Publishing Poetry. The class was not required in my major or specialization studies, but I thought I'd give it a try...trying to be well-rounded.
I hated this class. Absolutely hated it. I had to dig deep and write poetry that I didn't want to write. I had to search the little corners of my heart for poetry that would touch others. See, I'm not a halfway kinda girl. I put my heart and soul into everything I do...especially my writing. So really digging for poetry was, well, a little painful.
So this blog is my latest poem. It's a sestina. If you don't know what that is, google it after you read it...the definition ruins the poem if read first.
Enjoy! :)
Love is not a Tear
Twirling my hair through my fingers,
I blush, ashamed of my thoughts:
the sincerity I had seen in another's eyes
was undeniable as he spoke about the love
he could not escape. His tears
glistened, and the warmth from his hand
left a burn on my hand,
a sting that traveled to my fingers
as tears
overflowed. Gaining control of my thoughts,
I refocus on the love
you are speaking with your eyes.
Your blue eyes
hold mine as delicately as the touch of your hand
to my face. I never knew of love
felt through tender fingers
caressing my cheek. The thought
of my heart again tearing
open, making room for another, brought tears
to my eyes.
But you changed my thoughts
by simply keeping your hands
in check, sensitive to burns from careless fingers
God has this intense way of molding and shaping our lives into exactly what we need--and want. The intensity of it all is what leaves us a little mind-boggled. After the confusion finally fades, and we're left with nothing but the Lord's direction, clarity and healing come.
I am learning too much about myself right now. Haha. I don't know that that's possible, but it sure is unnerving. I'm on this search for self, for significance, for wholeness...just for me. For who I am and who God wants me to be. And I have never been so agitated and at peace, hurt and loved, broken and complete.
Which is why life is so beautiful. All of these emotions show me my major weaknesses, aspects of my character that have been out of focus, out of the main part of the picture. Not necessary until now. However, embracing these weaknesses makes my life more beautiful. A picture isn't as beautiful without a story along with it, a background. (Am I even making sense? I feel rambles coming, but I'm trying to catch this analogy) The blurs in the background of a picture add to what's really in focus, giving the picture dimension, beauty.
Dimension is being added to my personality, letting my true character come into focus. As painful as it is, I see its necessity in everyday trials. I'm truly allowing God to mold me, make me into His beautiful creation, what He's always had for me. :)
Good oldie song and good question for where I am right now.
I'm working on this Bachelors in English, I'm giving my thoughts about music and worship to a church that I love, I'm living with my best friends...
Yet, is this it?
I am content with where I am for now because I am living what I call "The Inevitable": I will be in college until I graduate; I will only give my opinions until God tells me to step into my calling; I will live with friends until I either live on my own or get married.
I am content.
However, I get these little glimpses into the future that send my mind and heart whirling: doing the dishes in a kitchen not my own; editing a twenty-five-page paper by Friday (for fun); taking some girls on a date.
The life I anticipate comes to me in little wafts: I can smell it distinctly when it's near, but its passing is so short that the smell does not linger long enough to enjoy it.
I had a tea party with some amazing girls on Saturday and enjoyed the heck out of myself. I haven't had big girl fun time in a long time, but I didn't realize how much I enjoyed it until I was walking away from it.
Life gets in the way of living. I know I've heard that said before, but I don't know where or why; however, I know it's true. The mundane, day-to-day activities of work, school, cleaning and sleeping get in the way of developing/maintaining quality relationships, of writing (in a blog for no reason but to write), of reading. Those three things are what I miss about living.
I have a wonderful life full of intriguing classes that are teaching me where I want to go with this degree, but I miss out on the simplest things: my baby sister's first high school cheerleading competition, eating lunch with my cousin in Dallas, hearing the talents at my youth group.
I miss it, but I want to be a part of it.
I want to give a solution to this problem, a reason for this stream of consciousness; but I don't have one.
So, I'll keep going about my day-to-day, planning what I can plan and adjusting what doesn't fit. Hoping that one day at the end of this college career, I can reminisce on the good times with the people I feel privileged to call my friends and family.
Mushy, yah. Just feeling that way.
Maybe I'll post something again...sooner.
School is back in session!!!!
I am one of those freaks that love love love love looooooooooves school. I like the classes; I like the structure; I even like the homework. So, I have basically been counting down for school-time.
Semester started out on a weird foot with me. (you didn't know semesters had feet, did you?) We were happily skipping toward the starting line, and he pretended he was going to trip me. Well, he did not succeed in tripping, but the fact that he tried surprised me. Semester told me that I only had two of him left... like a lifeline. TWO SEMESTERS LEFT. Do you know what happens when you run out of semesters? Here, I'll tell you: you graduate.
I have two semesters before I graduate. In May 2011, I will finish my degree plan. I will have no more required classes to take. I will become a woman.
This knowledge almost tripped me up. It almost overwhelmed me. It definitely scared me. But, here I am on my second day of school, still happily skipping hand-in-hand with good ol' Semester. I only have two of him left, and I plan on taking advantage of it/him/them (?).
So, here's to two semesters, to senior year, to graduating a year early.
Here we go.
I watched Eat Pray Love with my sisters Thursday night.
This may not seem like a big deal to you, but getting my sisters together is a much harder ordeal than one would expect. First of all, my family does not understand the meaning of “on time.” What is that? We have coined the word “late” and truly made it our own. With this in mind, I found a 4:55 showing, allowing all four of us to finish the important parts of our day, take a break for a movie, and go back to life. Plenty of Time.
[Ok, as every writer knows, when you have a “first of all,” a “secondly” always follows. So, here’s my “secondly."]
There’s another thing you should know about my family: we lack a sense of direction. We get lost everywhere we go. Our family vacations consist of finding the right road and getting on that road. That process continues until our destination point. That sounds like a typical road trip, right? Sure, if you go on several different roads before you find that road. This “lostness” isn’t just in my parents; no, it has trickled down to their five children. I get lost at least once a month. If I am not completely familiar with an area—and by completely familiar I mean lived in, studied a map of, and gotten lost at least twice—I will get lost in it. I was once lost in a town of 500 people with only two paved roads. Yes, it’s that bad. So, with this in mind, you should not be surprised to find out that one of my sisters got lost on her way to meet us (one out of four isn’t bad), and of course, she did what all of us do: she tried to fix it on her own. Alas, she could not. She called my mom, who tried to help but could not due to their mutual frustration; she called me, and I had no clue (no surprise there); and finally, she called my older sister who helped her make it to the theatre.
Now that you have the background, I’ll continue with my story:
I was sitting in the parking lot of the movie theatre at 4:45. Yes, I was on time, and yes, that rarely happens. What you don’t know that I am not about to tell you is that two hours before, I was lost…but only momentarily. I quickly found the road that said West instead of East (Never Eat Sour Watermelon, right?). At 5:15, 20 minutes after the movie had started (and 5 minutes after the previews had ended), I received a call from my older sister saying that perhaps we should find another time to watch the movie. Duh.
That’s enough torture for you reading this and for me reliving this.
We get to the 6:30 showing of the movie with our CVS snacks hidden safely in our overstuffed purses. By the way, I am so thankful for the people who work at the theatre and agree that theatre snacks are too expensive and therefore allow my three sisters and I to sneak our cheap chips, candy and drinks into the theatre. Gracias.
Okay, the main reason that I really wanted to watch this movie is because of James Franco. I know, I know, he’s not even a main character. But, he was on one of the previews, which was enough for me because my younger sister and I have an actor-crush on him. He is charming and oh-so-attractive. We own Tristan and Isolde and Flyboys, and have been searching for Annapolis. We loooooove our James Franco. mmhmmmm. :)
So anyway, I am surrounded by the three girls that I love the very most, with a water, a popcorn and my peanut butter m&ms, watching a movie about who-knows-what with random scenes of a man who is easy on the eyes. I am a happy camper.
Movie starts.
I like movies that make me think. I liked Salt, and I have always liked The Illusionist and The Prestige, movies that make me want to figure out the ending. However, I haven’t watched many movies that made me think the way Eat Pray Love made me think.
[No, no, this is not a movie critique. This is just babble. Enjoy or click the x. I’m cool with either, just don’t judge yet.]
I enjoy life. I love living and wouldn’t trade it for anything. I do not use my time wisely in many people’s eyes, but I do what I love. I read. I eat. I write. I think. I travel. I sit. I cook. (that’s new.) I do whatever I want to do, especially since I’m on summer break. I fill my days with whatever will satisfy me. Sound selfish? Maybe so. But at this point in my life, I feel like I need to be selfish. I need to look inward and see what pieces of me need to stay and what need to go, which is what Julia Roberts does in Eat Pray Love…she just waited a long time to do it.
[Transitions are not my best, so just follow me.]
There was a quote in the movie that I really liked: “God dwells within you, as you.”
In the movie, Liz (Roberts’s character) travels to India to visit a guru. I honestly didn’t understand half the stuff that was going on, but what I did understand was that she was looking for a balance to her life, looking for something that would sustain her. I don’t know if the God she was talking about is the same God that I love, but I took the quote and ran with it, made it my own.
[Here’s where the two tie together.]
In my enjoyment of life, God’s always with me. I know that sounds corney or hokey or whatever, but for real: He’s hanging out in my heart having a constant convo with me, so when I look inward to see what needs to stay and go, I often ask Him. I mean, He’s the one hanging out with all the clutter in my heart, and (I’m gona run with this analogy) I want to make it comfortable for Him. So, when it’s time for some house-cleaning, I ask Him what needs to go. I’ve been getting rid of a lot of things over the past three months of summer. I’ve been asking God a lot of questions, and I haven’t always gotten the answers that I wanted, but God’s been faithful to hang with the clutter in my heart, so I listen.
God dwells within me, as me.
I call myself a Christian. I say I want to do things that Christ did. Do I always? No, but I’m trying. I want to be a good example of who God is. So, for me, this quote goes like this: God chills in my heart, and the longer He’s there the more clutter I trash. The more clutter I trash, the more comfortable He becomes, making His mark on my heart. The more of Him I have in my heart, the more I become like Him. Less of me=more of Him, which is the essence of John 3:30—“He must become greater, I must become less.”
I want this end result. I want God to dwell within me, as me. No, I’m not God’s puppet; I have my own feelings and thoughts, and I act accordingly. But if my feelings and thoughts were more like His…what a life I could live…
A thinker, for sure. I hope that caused you to think, and I hope you could follow along. I just had to sort this all out of my head…which is what a blog’s for, right? :)
Remember those? I remember staying up suuuuuper late trying to get the latest dish on my friends and posting thoughts about whatever happened to be on my mind for that day. Because I'm a pretty outspoken person, my xanga was always updated and full of my mind.
I don't want to use this as a rant and rave soapbox; I just want to write and chill.
Maybe I'll be funny. Maybe I'll be serious. I have no idea. I just want to write to write.
