setting out.

A timely nugget of wisdom from 13th century Persian poet Rumi:

Load the ship and set out. No one knows for certain whether the vessel will sink or reach the harbor. Cautious people say, "I'll do nothing until I can be sure." Merchants know better. If you do nothing, you lose. Don't be one of those merchants who won't risk the ocean.

Rumi's words make so much literal sense to me, I set out on boats all the time. There is never a guarantee that I will reach my destination, but life would be far less thrilling sitting on the dock, watching boats come and go.

I refuse to be someone who doesn't take a chance. I hope that I will always fight against my impulse to keep myself within the realm of comfort and familiarity. I don't want to hold myself in a box, I don't want to be motivated by fear.

Trust is the only thing I can do.

long i stood.

In The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost writes,

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear..."

As I have read this, I have often been inspired by Frost's penchant for the original and the unique, and thought about how I aspire to live in a way that expresses my own values of unconventionality and adventure.

That's nice for grassy meadows, but what about the path of life, and the major mile markers that are inherent on any road? When I think of the big (even the moderate) life decisions one must make at certain points along their journey, I am reminded of how difficult and unclear the choices can be.

I have ideals, but those are not enough to carry me. Recently, in trying to decide if I want to pack up and leave a home that I love to move across the country in pursuit of new experiences, I have been realizing deep fears that I never ever knew I had within me and I am feeling unsure if I ever even knew what I really wanted. The decision is not as easy as I thought it would be.

I find myself on this road that Frost speaks of, at that point where the paths split. I know with certainty that if I were able to travel two roads simultaneously, I would. But being only one person, I must choose between them. But long I stand, looking back and forth, wondering, imagining, analyzing, driving myself insane.

Frost concludes,

"I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

I hope that years from now, when I look back on this time in my life, I will be able to say that I made a decision, and it was good, and I will wonder why I put myself through so much mental and emotional turmoil trying to discern what was "right" from all of the voices calling me in separate directions.

But perhaps my goal should be something more than arriving at a decision. Perhaps the struggle is part of the road itself, just as much as the other parts, and perhaps I can find peace here too. Perhaps I will look at this, the process of deciding, as a time that shaped me and helped me to be the person I am becoming.

Either way, I know I must keep walking.

mandatory down time.

I still wonder what it means to have consistency when life is always changing, constantly going in waves.

The current state of my life? Physical busyness and mental preoccupation to the point of illness. But the two days off from work and forced rest is actually quite nice.

I needed a whole day to zone out. Yesterday alone I watched two movies and eight episodes of the first season of Arrested Development. I took a brief afternoon outing to one of my favorite coffee joints where I sat down to read and write to my heart's content.

I had an entire day to simply unwind. It was glorious.

Sometimes (or often) I get so much on my mind that it becomes all-consuming. Everyday tasks and responsibilities seem overwhelming, and before I know it different parts of my life start to go out the window, like my sanity, or my personal hygiene. I start operating to serve the urgent issues at hand, forgetting to enjoy the small things, or to abide in God.

A funny thing happened last night when after a full day of relaxation and clearing my mind I all of a sudden went on a cleaning rampage, did three loads of laundry, picked up all of the clothes on my floor, organized my desk and books and storage area, played the guitar, caught up on emails, and even wrote some letters--things I had been needing to do for weeks but hadn't had the mental or physical capacity to tackle them.

I guess I just needed to start listening to my body, slow down, clear my mind and unwind, and all of those little things didn't seem so overwhelming anymore.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at how quickly I can become distracted by life. I have these moments rather often when I realize that I need to realign my focus and energies, take time to rest, remember to pray, trust God for my provision, etc.

But maybe that's just how life is, and will always be--realizing when I have started living life on my own terms rather than living by the Spirit and receiving God's grace to get my feet back on solid ground. I don't feel shame in myself anymore--perhaps that is the difference.

untitled.

So powerful is the ocean that I cannot stand with my feet at the threshold and think for one minute that life is within my control.

At the alluring, inspiring, terrifying edge of this sea of possibility,

I am humbled.

With every wave that charges the shore, I understand a little more that I cannot influence the movement of the water;

her mission is prevailing.

Releasing myself to her will, trusting she won't let me drown, letting go of every fear of the unknown, I let her take me.

Then finally the peace and beauty of the ocean consume me,

and I am free.

not a verbal processor.

I have had so much on my mind lately that I sometimes don't know what to do with myself. I sometimes (or often) find myself pacing around my house and eating unhealthy snacks and biting my fingernails.

Sometimes I have so many muddled thoughts on my mind that the whole "blog as outlet" idea completely overwhelms me. I guess I succumb to the pressure of wanting a perfectly eloquent and insightful blog post (who am I kidding?). So the online expression of heart hasn't really been happening lately, but believe me, the old school pen-and-paper journal has been getting an ear-full.

Before we get any farther, I just have to put something out there: I am not a verbal processor.

I think about things.

A lot.

To even say that is an underestimation of the thing completely.

If not distracted by something else (a conversation, a project, music, television, sometimes a book), my mind will constantly turn over with thoughts and feelings and confusion over life and it's many angles. Some time ago I coined the term "mental torment of the introspective" and it has never left me. (The phrase, as well as the torment.)

You see, I have this problem of trying to think myself into clarity. How I came to believe this ridiculous phenomenon to be attainable is beyond me. I have failed more times than I could count, but still I try.

Prayer helps.

So once the fog has cleared a little, and I have something resembling a linear train of thought, I write.

I have come to many revelations through writing--God speaks to me through writing, especially when I have many things on my mind (as I do now). Needless to say, the last two weeks of journaling sessions have been quite revealing.

God is stirring something up, and it's big. I can feel it.

It is exciting and it is painful.

Sometimes God is so subtle--a quiet whisper in the midst of unending channels of distraction. But other times I feel like God is right up in my face, and though I feel like a weakling by saying so, it makes me really uncomfortable.

I can so clearly imagine Jesus standing in front of me, looking straight into my eyes with a deep, penetrating gaze, sternly asking, "Will you trust me? Right now, no grasping at straws, will you trust me?"

"But I don't know all of the answers," I contest.

"Trust me."

"I don't know where you're taking me."

"Trust me."

"I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

"Trust me."


Lord, I pray that I will always say "yes" to you. In everything, no matter how big or small, let me be quick to obey you. In this and in everything, make me to rely on you--to not worry about the details or fear my own inadequacy.

Help me to trust.

going to the ocean.

I am nervous. I can tell because my fingernails are painfully short. I am fidgety and distracted by everything. My mind is running down eight different roads, making headway on not a single one of them due to the the seven others simultaneously pulling me back.

I think that I might be losing my mind. Again.

What is so odd about it, I guess, is that I recall thinking not too long ago that my life had strangely--somehow--settled in this place of unusual consistency and normalcy. Joke's on me then if I thought that was going to be a lasting state of being. It seems that ever since then certain areas of my life have come crashing down, yet again.

Losing control is funny. Why do I feel I need control so badly in the first place? What is it I hope to gain by "being in control" of my life? Stability? Happiness?

I suppose deep down I must think that to have control is to have peace--that in order to get along with life it must have to it a certain order in which I manipulate the variables to fit together according to my ideas of how life should be--and I crave peace, all the time.

But perhaps what I should crave is--not the things to be found in God--but God himself.

I accomplish nothing but to completely disgrace the cross with my asking God to bless my life with his sweet gifts of joy and fulfillment while continuing to go about my life according to my own guidelines, doing what I please, forgetting to pray, relying on my own strength and wisdom (if you can call it that), thinking that I can get along just fine, just as I've managed to do so far.

It is taking me a long time to realize that the gifts of God have to be unlocked in my life through the transformation of my heart, which can only be done by God, at the time of His choosing. Control will not fix it. Peace will not magically appear once I reach a certain point of getting all of my business together.

Why can't I seem to understand that the point is to be in the source (God)? The blessings are not the goal. They happen--in fact, they're promised--but they are not to be the objects of desire.

So what is standing in the way?

I am going to the ocean tomorrow. It always has a powerful way of reminding me that God is big and I never really had as much control as I thought I did. Even if only for a breath of really fresh air (perspective), it will be worth it.

new phase of life, new blog.

i've had a blog for a long time. i don't know how long exactly--long enough to have captured the significant life changes and random revelations of the majority of my college years. but having not posted anything in what must be almost two years now, i find it difficult to imagine going back to the same old page and picking up where i left off. so much of life has changed. so much of me has changed.

so rather than explain all of that, i'm just going to start fresh, and perhaps all the little revelations--all of the gradual changes that have made for one very different individual--all of the tiny little tidbits of the past two years, will somehow filter through.

sometimes a fresh start really is the best thing. sometimes.