thanks i think.

i think it is thanks. i think thanks is the thing i keep thinking of.

it is the kicking screaming thing i mean to say when i am hurting
it is the silent thing i want to say when i am sitting on my cold porch
feet propped up, watching cars pass

it is thanks
it is ugly and i am not good at it

i walk around kicking gratitude like it will somehow fall from my lips
but i think you can hear me anyways

when i pray it in front of other people, i can hear myself checking off a list in a familiar tone
the hiding tone
the one where i say the right things at the right time
to pacify any potential questions

yea, I'm hangin out
yea, just living life
yea, just feeling nothing and producing catch phrases

gotchya.
on that one.

but then i was seen, and always i have been known.
even the most intimate tender parts that i try to offer others
the ones i cannot reach, though i think i can
the ones i can't touch, hidden away

behind all the things

i would like to give them away sometime
i would like them to see the light
to know and be known
within myself, with others, without fear

i would like that

but i can't do it yet
i am too many directions
too frazzled
too scared
too much

so many automatic doors that drop down
i know you didn't mean to, but it didn't matter
like a back up system that i can't see
it all goes into lock down

be kind
abort abort, do not display
show nothing of the sort
nothing on the face
or in the tone or anywhere else

oh wait.
you saw that too i think
it is not even that i am surprised
it is that i am sad

i know its a lot of work
i know the mazes are tricky and i have automatic bombs that go off when you get too near
i know

i wish i didn't.
know, or have them.

but i do.
there are land mines and i don't own the map
there are things that would make mr jones' skin crawl

maybe not.
he didn't seem like the skin crawling type.

but either way, i know its there
i can't reach it
I've been taking rakes and shovels but i only have two hands
its just a lot
i think id like for you to help me move some of it
find a dark abyss to toss all of it
a wormhole with no end

maybe not, maybe just a different place
a wall instead of a pile
a place for it to be

cause all the Stuff wants gentleness too
it wants to be loved and not tossed
like all the stuffed animals were alive
like the toys needed to be played with equally
the Stuff needs some loving too

but i don't know if i can do it all myself
i think i need your help to love the things i have
i think i have thanks to give
cause its my stuff
a lot of it was given to me
you should say thanks when someone gives you something

so teach me please
or help me to be better
help me to give more thanks.

drew schwartz.

"One key to happiness is to see sorrow not as its opposite, but as its complement; in other words, sadness can improve happiness. Another, related and equally important is that feelings are only so important--try to have the patience to outlast your emotional reactions to things: we've all got them, and they tend to be rash. 

This can be really revealing, and in my experience, almost always a positive thing for both myself and the object of my desire/revulsion. Take a good look at the people you dislike, and they will probably share--and exhibit--your own flaws, or things you perceive to be (but may not actually be) weaknesses. This last is usually related to low self-esteem or an aversion to vulnerability. 

Lord knows this is true of me. It can be a painful and sometimes frightening process--for instance, realizing how much I was like my parents and how much damage they unwittingly inflicted was terrifying and agonizing--but I assure you, it is worthwhile. And a small gift is that equanimity makes maturity easier, friendships deeper, and life in general richer. 

And so, I give it to you."

my friends are brilliant.

post at the eye doctor.

im listening to the best of you by the foo fighters & i cant think of another song in the world that makes you feel any more invincible.

and its probably just because its honest.

summer is officially coming to an end and the school year is starting up. transition from camp to real life is always a pretty intense transition, but it became a little more distinct this time. i got home saturday night, sad to leave & fell into my bed exhausted. half a day later, i was broken up with.

it still sucks. the reasons were half hearted & in my glorious inability to feel, i said, yeah youre probably right, this is the best thing. delayed emotional responses. suck. and i walked through it all, found out more, and finally examined the red flags that i waded with through our relationship.

its not fun. hearts dont split without consequence, no matter how inevitable the result. i knew. he made up his mind long before he tried to tell me. and i watched it unfold in the nature of things broken apart. i watched lines fray & i saw the distance. things that break bear consequence. there wasnt any more could do, so i walked and watched.

 i know that when you enter a relationship
you are committing to a risk, accepting the  consequences, whatever they might be. sometimes it ends well, and sometimes it doesnt. i know that & accept it. but looking back hurt. i saw the signs. the end was ugly because i knew the moment where he was done. i wasnt convenient & he already moved on to someone new. bills were haphazardly left for me to deal with. none of it was mindful.

im moving along pretty well in it. im not some wounded dog on the side of the road and notdrinking myself into oblivion. im not attacking him with messages. its done. but i no longer champion the qualities in him that had potential. they arent there. maybe they will be one day, but they weren't while we dated. i dont have to champion everyones cause. 

sometimes thats life. sometimes you win & sometimes you stumble. its not a fun season. but in all of this, i am hopeful. im

letting my circumstance speak into my life & letting it mold a few things. im giving voice to my experience & im not running. im trying & walking. im not drinking, save very specific company & unbelievably motive checked intentions. ive got a few dents, and as bri said, maybe a scratch for good measure. but nothing that i cant bring out into the light. nothing that the Lord doesnt see, that God cant hear. im heard. my voice doest hit every note, but it hits my notes. ive got some more of my notes and i like that. 

life has it moments, but it also has its graces. ive got a lot of those. ive got good friends who look out for me & people who hear me, regardless of whether or not im saying anything out loud. there here in town & in other states. its is good to know that youre loved, but it is something wonderful to be able to feel it too. id even say better.

i guess posts dont matter.

i finally got to sit in my room today.
with a closed door.
my own music.

it was beautiful, because it was still.

i work at a camp called passport as a director and it blows my mind in every way. its exhausting, but its beautiful. in the weirdest of ways, its healing, but i suppose thats because i want it to be. because i am at a place where i hope it will be.

its been a long time since ive been in a leadership position from the front. ive taken jobs that serve from beneath and below, and now im in charge. im learning & relearning a lot. ive realized what fuels my beliefs & ive found my voice again. its really nice.

i love to pray. i forgot that. or squelched it, im not sure. stifled, strangled, or lost, it has been found again. i pray in front of campers on a daily basis & it has reminded me that i like pray. that God listens. and that its not in vain.

i guess thats it, if you can call it that. i still love my music. im still on hiatus from my life. but im doing just fine & im grateful for that.

something like the middle east.

im half way through a trip in the middle east & my head swims as much now as we did in the dead sea. and for the record, that included mostly floating, and a lot less swimming.

at some point there will be pictures, once i figure out where i was when i took them, but this has been more about observing & imagining than documenting. I'm rooming with april hoelke and mostly we laugh and talk. havent turned the tv on yet. honestly at this point, im not sure that ill ever buy cable. i just dont care enough.


 .the day before we left, as i packed my bags, bri & sarah sat on my bed laughing. i took a phone call on the porch & when i came back in, they suggested going to charleston in the morning since i no longer had to ride the train. the currie alarm clock in the back of my head was screaming margins and initially i listened. but once i finished packing i said to hell with it because bri was moving and it was going to be the last time for a while. we'd go for the sunrise and be back before lunch time. it was a suicide trip, but i dont regret it in the least. went to bed & woke up at 2 to start the drive. got some gas, picked up bri, got sarah & drove over to stacies. so funny. dead of the night. recently ive wanted to do an early morning drive. there is a stillness in the early hours that is unlike any other time . it is beautiful and profound & i feel the Lord the most in those moments. we swam & skinny dipped beneath a blazing orange sky. it was incredible & liberating. something like feminists. its not something i would normally do, but there is something about salt water on your skin that heals. where rest is found. in good company. i was dead tired on my trip to israel but i was peaceful & happy. sometimes you do crazy things with the people you love if for no other reason than it says "i love you too". life has bee good to me

.

"we wandered through as restless reckless little wrecks
watching every footfall caressing every step
to the bottom of that path that lead our head past moments where we'd wept
past the erie haunted taverns of hollowed out regrets
pigeon holes of beds in which we once slept
waltzing past them once more with no promise of our rest
we walked onward and inward, grazing sleeping demons
wondered if we meant the vows we'd sworn
swollen feet in weathered shoes battered clothing torn
but seuss was not here in the shadows
nor was there much light, save the end
but walk onward we must for fear of regressing into second guesses
move forward and march on
through the fogs and the mist
through the memories, where we wrested ourselves from monsters
or they rested themselves in us
for now
for more
for better or worse
forlorn
walk on faithful soldier
walk on to the end of your rope
tie a knot or let it go
both will end in rest eventually
but in the trenches of silence we ourselves knew the truth
there would be no rest till the demons were wrestled
till we had succumb to the battle cry heard from the beginning of time
come one, come all, come here now
yes ma'am i will, standing as straight as these weathered bones would allow
and so we marched onward, tempted by the tempest in our wounded watery hearts
the ocean stirred and we moved, again and again
we are nothing new but not yet old
waiting, writhing, wondering once more
we would get there in time
in time we would be
inches from war in the calm of the sea"

gracious.

its a month later, and a thousand things past. last night, a group of us sat down on the raggedy couches of the decrepit coffee shop to study together. we accomplished what we needed to and laughed in between. it was nice to sit between several women in my life who are so different, but wired similarly. we rotated around the couches, and processed through the funny things we watched.

i was so grateful. 

this season of life has been rich on both sides. some running, some sitting, some resting. but always in great company. i have great friends from undergrad, and that lineage has continued. logan, bri and hannah are moving at some point in the next couple of months. i thought about it the other day and got so sad. and equally, was so happy. grateful that these people have moved deeply into my life and nestled their ways into my hearts. that my heart has healed enough to feel and to love. to connect with people i care for. and equally, who care for me. some of the time we spend it marked by conversation, and some of it is marked by silence. by sitting and being near, and in some cases, sleeping. its peaceful and it is filled with grace. there are these moments of stillness where i sit with the Lord and i say thanks. i see the spaces where there is now fullness, knowing it will soon be absence. and one day that absence will be adjusted, which is not the same as being filled. even if you fill a hole with cement, you still remember what was there, which means its never really gone. especially if you were around to see what once filled the hole. there are places in my life that are full. the community i live with fills them well, and tenderly at that. patiently.

i say the same things over and over. i repeat myself, sometimes because my memory is shoddy, but often times because i want to reinforce what is important. and to remember the things that i value, for better or worse. the Lord fills my life with grace through friendship. through other things too, in fairness, but mostly through good friends. through time and conversation. through love. im a typical ENFP, and i think everything in life is about relationships. the best life is a loved life. even upon definition, everything in the entire world is about relationships. how every object, concept, movement, stillness, etc interacts with something else. even an island is moved by the waves. even the stars are pulled by gravity. even the valleys get filled. nothing goes untouched. everything relates to something else. every person is moved, constantly. we are fluid and things change us, but we remain who we are. some things are for better and some things are not. we fill the space we are given. we are in constant contact with the world, no matter how much we might hate it. our brain just filters out the consciousness of it. but its still there. our bodies still interact and adjust, even if we don't acknowledge our environment. i wasnt awake for my surgeries, and yet my body responded, even weeks afterwards. even when you sleep, your body moves to find comfort, and to move away from what it doesnt want. at least in a physical sense. we live in constant tension. we stand up straight, in spite of gravity's strength pulling us down. equal and opposite reactions. we are always coming and going, even if we are sitting still, because times moves and we move within time. and the same is true for every person we meet, even those we will never know.

i have these amazing people in my life. they love me well, and i aspire to love them well in return. i am learning good love, good faith, the good fight. i am learning the good. i have seen the bad, and i will see it again. but to know good and to hold it while you walk through the bad is a new and beautiful thing. i know that i can walk into a room of friends and they will read me and know things without me needing to say them. i know that i can shoot a text and the appropriate response will come back. i know that i can talk to some of my friends, and respond with a full tank of gas. i think that is part of what it means to relate in love. not that everyone is responsible for the perfect response every time. but that sometimes, we do know what is best. what will love the most, and what will be received well. and to know that even if we miss it completely, it is not any less loving. there is grace in all of it.

there is something warm about being loved. warmth is a reminder of life. its been chilly recently and the coffee shop wasnt freezing, but it wasnt warm. one of my friends on the couch had cold feet, and i had extra socks with me. as silly as it is, those socks are really important to me. they are my warm socks, and often times they are called my 'jon myer' socks, because he rocks those salt and pepper bad boys like its his job. they are warm and well worn. but they are not important for those reasons. i cant remember if it was my 3rd or 4th surgery, but in either case, i was really upset. and sad. and cold in the hospital bed. i had gotten out of surgery and woken up with grief that sat on my chest like bricks. when you have surgery in your abdomen, moving is not a possibility. so physically and metaphorically, i could do nothing. ive got poor circulation, so my feet were really cold. the nurses put blankets on me to warm me up, but my feet were so cold. my mom sat in the room with me while she waited for me to feel okay enough to go home, which is all i wanted to do. she loved me well and was patient. she ached for me cause she loves me. she brought these warm socks with her, and put them on my feet, because i couldnt reach my own toes. i wore those socks for the next week while i stared at the ceiling asking the Lord, why? they are warm and loving. so as silly as it is, those socks are important. they were for warmth. it also gave us a good laugh because bri typically dresses well, being the trendy welsh nashvillian she is. the socks clashed, but it mattered not because they were warm. and often times, that is the most important. we are a motley crew, but we love well and are loved in return.

"cause you said ours were the lighthouse towers

the sand upon that place

darling ill grow weary happy still

with the just memory of your face

gracious goes the ghost of you

and i will never forget the plans and

silhouettes you drew here and

gracious goes the ghost of you

my dear."