And Then It Was Autumn

I am sitting at my desk in my new room that I will call home for the next nine months.  It is cozy here and I like it, but it's not quite the same as home.  I am writing this as I hopelessly try to avoid the sociology paper that awaits and I am daydreaming and letting my thoughts drift through the rain that falls outside my window.  Fall is finally upon us and this fall is unlike any other I have ever experienced.

The leaves started to change weeks ago, yet I have only been in school for 10 days.  I now eat waffles and chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast instead of the usual bowl of Rice-Krispies.  At some points, it all feels so perfectly wonderful, but at other points I find myself crying because of all that is changing so fast.  Nobody likes change, even good changes have their own set of struggles.  Even chocolate chip pancake change.  So now, as things become more regular and the rain falls more steadily, I stare into space and wonder what lies ahead.

I wonder what I'll be thinking when the brightly colored leaves are no longer on the tree outside my window.  Will they be thoughts of peace, of excitement, of joy or of uncertainty?  I so often think "God only knows..."but I so wish he would tell me what lies ahead right now because I presently have absolutely no idea.  When people ask me my major, I clench up with fear of the unknown or the fear that what I choose will decide the rest of my life.  Yet I look at my pastor father and his education in architecture and it puts my mind somewhat at ease.  Ease that tells me I can do what I love and that I'll end up doing what I'm meant to do, all in due time.

  

I am confident that I will learn what I am meant to do because my faith in Christ has grown profoundly in the last ten days.  Through the past week, I have prayed to God more times in a day than ever before and this huge adjustment to college has caused me to grow so much deeper in my faith...and it's only been one week.  It is so amazing to be able to go to college and pray before you build a set and discuss the role that Christianity plays in the subject you are studying.  It's refreshing and it is helping me to look at the world differently.  This new feeling towards Christ is helping me so much and I am so excited to see where it will take me.

Sunrise, Sunset

My mom and I were cooking dinner tonight and listening to Fiddler on the Roof.  As she was stir-frying the chicken and I was doing my best to cut up a pineapple the song "Sunrise, Sunset" came on.  The words feel like they're about me.  About my parents.  About our lives and how they are changing.

"Wasn't it yesterday when they were small?  Sunrise, Sunset.  Swiftly go the days.  Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze...Swiftly fly the years, one season following another, laden with happiness and tears."

I am moving out on Thursday and my parents will be alone for the first time in nearly 24 years.  How much it seems we've been through together, yet there is still so much ahead of us.  It feels like yesterday that I was starting first grade with a fearful smile and when people ask me if I can believe I'm starting college, I frankly tell them "I'll believe it when it happens."  Even then, it will be hard to believe that I am eighteen and starting this ridiculously big chapter of my life.  In the blink of an eye, highschool was over and in the next four years I'll blink again and I'll be graduating from college.  How does it happen so fast?  How can 18 years be just an instant?  To be honest, I never thought this day would come and there is a nervous feeling inside me telling me it's not actually happening.  

I looked through my memory box recently and found relics of the past.  Drawings for Fathers Day, paper hearts from Valentines Day, elementary school projects, report cards, Sunday school books, programs and awards.  Everything came back into mind so vividly and there were tears and laughter as I went through it all.  Finding funeral programs from too many who died too young.  Finding paintings from the first grade that look just as good as anything I've done lately.  Photographs from my first steps to receiving my diploma.  It's all there, 18 years of memories put into one big, purple, rubbermaid box. 

There have been many seasons of life for me, but they have all looked relatively the same.  I start something new, I fear the change, I find the good in it and I smile.  Repeat.  That has been my life and now I am starting something very new.  Newer than starting high school.  Newer than learning how to tap dance, than learning how to act.  Thanks to those 18 years behind me, the fear is gone.  I am starting something new for the first time with courage rather than uncertainty.  These will be good years, like the songs says, "laden with happiness and tears".

Whatever Way Our Stories End

Song lyrics have started to mean so much more to me lately.  I feel like they are expressing my feelings better than I ever could, so I am sharing them with you. 

"I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn.  And we are led by those who help us most to grow if we let them and we help them in return...It well may be that we may never meet again in this lifetime, so let me say before we part: So much of me is made of what I learned from you...and now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend."

--"For Good", Wicked

I first heard this song on my last day of high school and it was shared with me by my dear stand partner and friend.  She told me that it was a story about me and her, which is true, but it is also the story of me and many others lately.  There are so many people who have been in and out of my life, yet they have all been so important in shaping it.  Without them, I wouldn't be listening to these showtunes and letting them touch my life so deeply.  It is so true to me that people come into our lives for a reason and though that reason is sometimes not seen until those friendships are over, it was still a reason.  So when I have been saying good-bye to my friends as they head off in separate directions, I realize that some of them I may never have the same relationship with them.  Even though those friendships will not be the same, I will still never forget them and they will still be so important to me.  As we head off and our paths become more clear, with a few clouds along the way, we will not forget the things we learned from each other.  No, we will take the lessons with us and we will never forget the impact we had on each other's lives.

  

A Summer About Life

"This is how it works

You're young until you're not

You love until you don't

You try until you can't

You laugh until you cry

You cry until you laugh

And everyone must breathe

Until they're dying breathe

No this is how it works

You peer inside yourself

You take the things you like

And try to love the things you took

And then you take that love you made

And you stick it into some

Someone else's heart"

--Regina Spektor, "On the Radio"

For me, what was meant to be a relaxing summer before the college plunge has proven to be one of the most difficult yet.  It has been a summer of feeble attempts to do everything I can and in turn, has been a summer of the reality that I can't do it all.  I listened to this song and the words seem to jump out at me as a message of how to live my life.  It told me I can't do everything...a crude realization, but an utterly true one.  It told me I can't be friends with everyone, that some friendships will last and others will fall.  It has told me things I desperately don't want to hear, but things that are necessary to hear.  It told me I must go on and spread my love through my world.  Not the whole world, that's what I want to do and can't do.  No, for now, I need to spread love through my world.

There have been beautiful moments this summer and also moments that have made me sad.  If I want to really live life, I must experience both.  I put on a play this summer with 10 friends in six weeks and, exhausting as it was, it was a wonderful way to spend my time.  I have spent many hours in the company of old friends and new friends alike.  There have been evenings spent in tears, tears that show our concern for what lies ahead.  There have also been times of pure laughter, living in the moment and not letting anything get in our way.  It's been a summer unlike any other and as I prepare to go to college, I wonder if there will be more summers like this one.  Summers of joy, but of uncertainty.  Of love and of irritation.  Of the realization that some things will come to an end, whether we want them to or not.  

The next year will be full of the same feelings, but this difficult summer is something for me to be grateful for.  It has taught me things that were important to know before I approached my entirely new world of college.  In the end, though it has been harsh and tearful, this summer was a blessing for me.  Blessings come in many forms and this is one I don't often like to see, but as I grow older, I realize how important it is to hear the painful truth in the times you desperately don't want to.  I am thankful for the tears and the laughter and they will go with me into the next year where there will be even more.

Block Party!

To the cast of my play, I seemed crazy when I asked if we could have an earlier rehearsal so that I could go to my block party. "Why would you want to go to that?" they ask me and I simply responded with "Because I love my neighbors!" There were so many more reasons that I didn't want to explain to them because I wasn't quite sure they would understand how two simple hours of my summer could possibly mean so much to me. For me, the block parties have often been a wonderful time of coming together and getting to know those people who I see every single day. I watch them get into their cars every morning and we all return home around the same time. I know them by their dogs and the house they live in, not by their name. I have lived in the same house for 12 1/2 years and it has been a joy to watch this neighborhood grow up.

I've watched the houses grow higher, the trees grow taller and recently have noticed the children grow up. When I appeared at the caucus a few months back, I scared all my neighbors when they realized that the little five year old who they met is now old enough to vote in this presidential election. Just like me to them, the younger kids on the block are a joy to watch. There are three little kids on our street around the age of four and they were so fun to watch at the block party. They were taking advantage of the street that was closed off and riding their bicycles in it. When the party truly began was when the boy splashed some water on the girl and she retaliated by dumping a huge cup of water all over him...the fight had begun.

They were chasing each other with big red cups in hand and they were a joy for me to watch. Three of the girls who I grew up with on this street were watching too and we were loving it. Not so long ago, we were running around the block party too, but now rather than being the performers, we were the spectators, sitting in lawn chairs in our pretty dresses eating pesto pasta. We were talking about going to college for two of us, trying out for the high school soccer team for the other two. We've grown up since the water fight days, but that "grown-up" facade could only last so long. Hayden and I looked at each other, jumped up and joined in the water fight.

My dress was getting soaked as I was dumping cups full of water all over her head and chasing these two little kids up and down the street. I was getting tired and cold, so after I chased Hayden to the other end of the street, we called a truce and changed into dry clothes. When I went back to join the party, Shannon and Chelsea were now involved and looking even worse than I was. Then the fight turned neighborhood wide and everyone was either wet or holding up their cellphones as a type of shield. It was just so fun to watch the college bound Shannon in running down the street in her soaking wet party dress with mascara running down her cheek. To me, it was a sign that things will not change entirely.

Even though we're going separate directions for school and our lives are completely different, when it comes down to it, we'll always be there for each other. We went to the movie store after the party, picked up the fifth neighborhood girl and piled on to the couch for our final movie night before the big college separation. The five of us have grown up together and have all changed so much and will continue to change as the years go on, but for those few hours, it was as though nothing had changed. And it was beautiful.

Bits and Pieces

I've started the dreaded task of cleaning my room. No, I don't mean just putting clothes in their drawers and books back on the shelf. No, the cleaning I'm talking about is FAR worse. It's the deep I'm-going-to-college-in-three-months type of cleaning. Empty the contents of every drawer and decide what to keep and what to toss. Stand on a stool and inspect the top of the bookshelf and underneath the bed where lost items have been rediscovered. With every item I find, there is a story and a memory that flies back into my head. Good memories, bad memories. The ones that make me laugh and the ones that make me cry. This is what the next three months will be for me: an uncovering of the years past and an uncertain anticipation of the years to come.

It started with the dresser. I opened each drawer pulling out hings that were once adorable and over the years, have evolved into a horrible fashion statement. I pulled out all the T-shirts from all the clubs and events throughout high school, the ones that at one point were purchased to be pajama shirts. I soon realized that one can only have so many pajama shirts and they have become significant enough that they will be turned into a quilt that will journey with me into the dorm. The dorm, the dorm...what else will go with me there and what things will be left behind?

I started to look at all the picture frames, which are so hard to get rid of. I found one with six different squares, each one filled with a photo of someone who has made an impact on my life. Grandpa is in the first square and I realized at this moment how much I truly miss him. Then there are friends, siblings and youth leaders who have all been there for every play, all the tough times and countless times filled with laughter and joy. Then I began to uncover pictures and treasures from my middle school days. Pictures of old classmates and crushes and the box of poetry written in the seventh grade. The poetry brought to mind an unforgettable story.

I came home after school one day with the poem in hand. It was about pets and it rhymed, but I learned that day that just because it rhymes, that does not make it a great work of poetry. My mother, in an odd attempt at being humorous, read the poem and said it was crap. I began to bawl because the pride of my work had just been ripped to shreds. It seemed horrible then, but after reading the poem five years later, she was right: It WAS crap (and, to be fair, she was quoting a movie. I didn't realize that at the time.) And, like most cases where she is right, I will try my hardest to forget about it.

Very few things went beyond middle school, except for a few school projects from my elementary years, which will be added to the memory box. But the memory box is full of even more stories that must be saved for another time. If I uncover all the treasures right away, it will all be over to fast, and I can't have that, now can I?

New York, New York

When I first stepped out of the train from New Jersey to New York, I wasn't thinking about New York, I was thinking about where I could find the closest restroom. In New York, the closest one was certainly not close and I was not happy with the busy city the first moment I arrived there. "Will the whole trip be like this?" I thought to myself. Then I responded to myself "No, it couldn't." And it wasn't. The trip was wonderful from the first taxi ride to the last Broadway show.

I went to New York with two friends, Lisa and Lindsey, and we had been planning on New York since our freshman year. Lindsey is our mentor, you see. She is the one who has met with us every Sunday for four years and given up her own free time to help us grow into who we are right now. Lisa has been my closest friend since the age of five and our friendship has stood the test of time. So, when we wanted to go on a trip and we each started a coin jar to create spending money from loose change, we decided on New York. New York is the place to be, with its bustling crowds and busy streets. It's the city that never sleeps, and we are the girls that never sleep, so it seemed a perfect match. What we all quickly discovered is that it was a perfect match...for all of us, each with our own reason. Now, I cannot speak for the other two, but I can definitely speak for myself and I could give you a hundred reasons why New York truly is the place to be. I won't give you a hundred, but I will at least give you a few.

For me, of course, Broadway is an obvious one. The lights of Broadway were as bright as I imagined and there was a theatre on every corner, which, for me, was heaven. Although the theatres were smaller than I had built in my mind, the shows were more extraordinary than anything I every pictured. They were overflowing with talent and artistically, I haven't seen anything so remarkable. The actors were able to draw me into the story from the very first note they sang and I laughed and cried through the entire story. That is when theatre is truly amazing, when you are transported into another world and you entirely forget where you actually are. Broadway did exactly that and it was absolutely amazing.

The diversity of New York was so interesting to me. Everywhere we went, you could never see an obvious racial majority. You could sit on the subway and the people across from you were speaking french while the woman next to you was wearing a sari. We ate dinner in Little Italy and as soon as we crossed the street, we were in Chinatown. There were people everywhere and you could always have an interesting conversation with anyone (who was willing to share....) So, between the people we met and the food we ate, we experienced at least a dozen different cultures all in one place.

All in all, New York was a wonderful place, but, like the end of all journeys, it was nice to come home. The one thing that New York City lacked was peace. That is why Seattle will be the place that I call home and the place I always have a hard time leaving: It is a place where even the most stressful day can end in peace and peace is what every person looks for, but not every person can find. So, thank you Seattle, for the peace you bring to my life.