Priorities

"Do what makes you happy". The simplest answer to some of life's most difficult questions. This entire week I've been pondering the question: What DOES make me happy? I know this is something I should probably just know. My friends make me happy and my family and the thought of my future and my means of getting there. I'm beginning to think the better question is: What in my life doesn't make me happy? What's the unnecessary components? And are they worth eliminating? It's funny because a while ago I started running because it relieved my stress and kept me from doing destructive things to myself. It's five years later and I cannot pinpoint one thing more frustrating, time consuming, or stressful in my life than running. How did this happen? I realized the key to relieving to my overworked, caffeine driven lifestyle. Prioritize. When I think about this hard enough, I realize some pretty scary facts about myself. Even though it's only two or so hours a day, I put running before all things. If I have a huge test the next day and need to study, I go to track anyway. If I find a really great internship that runs until 5 o'clock everyday, I choose track. If my friend really needs someone to talk to, and 4:15 rolls around, I choose track. And you know what, while I'm running I'm thinking about that test I could be studying for or the great experience that internship could have been or worst of all, how shitty of a friend I've been lately. And during this time in just two years from now, it's not going to even matter if I got those six miles in today, or that I hit my workout times. What's going to matter is the final GPA I put on top of my resume, the job I (hopefully) am granted, and the people standing right beside me. Needless to say, on a list of what makes me happy, my priorities are way way out of whack.

Thinking

I haven't done much blogging lately. My days feel incredibly short recently and the weeks keep ticking away like seconds on a clock. I spend my time watching and learning and reading and running, but mostly I've been doing a lot of thinking. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. There's been a lot of transformations in my life. I feel I've reached a certain level of maturity these past couple of months. And with it has come some confidence, some anticipation, but most of all I can't seem to shake this feeling of guilt. A little while ago, I made a decision to shut a person out of my life. At the time, it didn't seem like a big deal. This particular person hadn't been a part of my life for a number of months and I couldn't help feeling forgotten about. Looking back, even just on this summer I've been taking a completely different outlook on the situation. My brain sort of goes in circles. From one thought to another, but it always finds its way back to the beginning. The root of my thinking, of my feelings of guilt- that is, if I were in their situation I would want someone standing by my side no matter what. I would want someone to care enough to wait it out. To prove that I was worth it. I would want someone there to understand. So here I am, sitting at my desk, right back at that initial thought. The same one that silently lingers around my brain too many hours a day. It's this thought that makes people wonder what happened to make me so detached lately, so distant. Why I can't trust people anymore. It all evolves around this pestering thought.

just a thought...

I had this idea once. I remember the day it came to me. At the time, it seemed enormous. I remember feeling so small next to this thought. I decided on that same day, that it would be my destination in life. All of a sudden, I had something to work toward. And I was so so sure that as incomprehensible as the method of travel seemed at the time, that I would get there, someday somehow I would arrive. That day was seven years ago. Which seems like an eternity because of all I've gone through, all I've experience, all I've learned since then. In fact, I think the only thing that has remained the same from that day is this idea. I look at the faces of the middle school girls I work with twice a week. Sometimes I wonder exactly what it is they're gaining from the four hours a week I spend with them. What role am I playing in their lives? In some cases, like my own all it takes is a small flicker to start a flame. It's incredibly cool to think that somewhere, somehow you could be inspiring someone tremendously. I'm learning as you approach your destination in life, things start to get a little crazy. I'm writing this post because I feel most days I'm going a mile a minute organizing, and studying, and learning, and helping. And it's good, because I'm making it to where I want to be. But I think every now and again it's important to stop looking ahead for a second, and realize how far you've come- to recognize what a beautiful life you've had so far, even through challenge and tragedy, despair and doubt. I have a list of things that I thank God for every night. First off for my family and friends and health- things I would never want to take for granted. And lastly I thank God for blessing me with the ability and immense desire to make other peoples lives better. For without this, I would be completely lost. And that is my thought. All day long, resting in the back of my brain through endlessly thick readings and tireless cross country workouts, the first thing when I wake up and the last thing before I doze off. That is my thought.

Enough

There are so many things that we want in life and we seem to have the strongest tendency to dwell on them. Maybe it'll come next month... Maybe next year... Maybe tomorrow. Thing is, nothing can be rushed. Nothing comes when or the way it's supposed to. There is a reason for not getting everything we want the way we want it. Its meant to make us appreciate what we do have, right now in this very moment. Unfortunately, it doesn't always go that way. We're always lacking something or someone. We're always looking at the negative. But at the end of the day when it's all said and done, we've made it through another day with just what we had when we woke up this morning. At the end of the day, we should go to bed knowing we had enough to make it through another day and that is well, enough.

Forgetting

There are very few things that hurt more than the feeling of being forgotten. Maybe it has to do with that feeling of living in the past, of hanging onto a tiny bit of hope, when everyone else has gotten over it, moved on, and well, forgotten about it. It's a fragile feeling, an insecure feeling. I can tell myself over and over that regardless of what happens, I'm still me. I can remind myself that God has plans for me. I can lie all I want to everyone else around me saying that I'm over it, that I've dropped it, that I'm moving on. But no one gets it. How is it so easy for others to forget and for me so hard? Sometimes, it eats away at my thoughts so much my stomach starts to ache, like the little fluttering butterflies are dying one by one as time goes on. I sometimes forget to take my own advice, that when you're sad you should allow yourself to feel sad and accept those emotions before you try to change them. I'm not sure I've done that yet. Instead I've thought of all the happiness I should be feeling, all the moving on I should be doing, and all the memories I should be forgetting. There's just something about it that consumes me and the more I try to resist, the worse it gets. All I know is this monster I carry around with me isn't going away as soon as I would like. Welcome to the adult world, I guess.

In The End

Life can be incredibly cold sometimes. It can wear on you, and kick you down, and push you to your absolute limits. It can be rejecting. It can break you. It can build up your expectations so high and then squash them into the ground. I know there must be some reason why I've been feeling the way I do lately. There must be an alternate route I haven't found yet or a train that has yet to stop at my station. Regardless, there is no "right" way to live life. No matter what, hardships are inevitable. Things change and people leave and time goes on. In the end when it's all said and done, I want to be able to say that I've felt true pain, that I've experienced pure joy and happiness, that I've laughed at the little things and that I've taken the path that was meant for me to take- that I've fought, and grown old. I want to find the value in every step that will have led me to that moment, to come to understand why things happened the way they happened and cherish the true beauty in what's right in front of me. In the end, I want to say "I've lived", and mean it.

I've been learning a hard lesson in patience lately. When things go wrong, sometimes you can't fight for them without making them worse, so we wait instead. The thing I've been learning about this waiting game is that sometimes it takes mores strength to be patient and hold back than to fight it. Fighting is an action. It's proactive and worthy and makes us feel dignified and strong. But waiting- waiting is draining. It's exhausting and relentless. It's waves upon waves of thoughts you'd rather not be dwelling on. It's a constant reminder of what could be, what should have been. With fighting, it's your determination that shines through the brightest. With waiting, it's your faith. It's quiet. It's believing, and hoping, and reminding yourself day in a day out there's a reason for this silence. Mostly, it's knowing that better things are on their way. Whether it be soon or way down the road. A friend told me the other day- it's okay to be upset. And I had never thought of it like that. But putting it into my own perspective, I in fact, am upset. I'm upset over time lost and I'm upset that I care so much and I'm upset that I have memories all around my room and in every corner of my mind of what it all used to be. It is terribly upsetting actually. Regardless, the biggest part of this patience lesson that's been slapping me across the face everyday is that there's something really special about the things worth waiting for. And when they're worth it, you know. You know because giving up was never an option, it never even crossed your mind to throw in the towel, to call it a day, to throw up your hands and say "I'm done", even though so many situations have warranted it. I think there's something really special about that.

When I was nine years old I had an Eeyore stuffed animal that I still carried around by the neck everywhere I went. I had my own imaginary world right in my own backyard. I believed in everything and trusted everyone. My mom was my biggest role model and my dad was my superhero. I could fly in his arms, and when my feet hit the ground he made me believe I was the fastest girl in the world. He was my biggest fan, and my rock. No matter how many terrible scrapes I drummed up, there wasn't one a hug and a kiss from my dad couldn't heal. He taught me how to be invincible and he taught me about life and love and he tackled me with kisses and constrained me with monster hugs and tickled my tiny rib cage until tears ran down my smiling cheeks. He's been there. He's seen it all. I'm really beginning to see lately how terrible things tend to target undeserving people. When I was nine years old, my biggest concern was what was for dinner that night. It never crossed my mind even to this day, to someday come home to a dinner table where my dad wasn't in attendance. Or to wake up on a winter Sunday to an empty fireplace. The truth of the matter is, that dad had so much more to teach that little girl. He had so much more to see and experience. I'm usually pretty good at assuming the perspectives, thoughts, and feelings of others, but every time I try to imagine life without my dad for the past eleven years, my brain quickly snaps away from even the thought of it. And perhaps the worst part of it all is as I have gotten to know this little girl more and more I'm coming to realize she's one of the sweetest, most kindhearted little persons I've ever met. She deserved none of this. And maybe that's why it tares me up so much. Maybe that is why I feel so strongly for this tough little girl that has just recently entered and changed my outlook on life completely. Things can change in an instant. Life doesn't always play by the rules. Try as we might to keep everything strung together in perfect harmony, our lives fall apart sometimes. It gets too dark to know which way is up or down or left or right and we lose perspective and faith and maybe even ourselves.But when all is dark, even the dimmest light can be seen. Even the slightest murmur of that harmony can be heard from afar and that is what we must focus on. That little slice of our life existing in perfect harmony.

The thing about caring about people is once you start, it's really hard to stop. For as long as I can remember, caring about people too much has been the one thing I just can't stand about myself. It's always all or nothing. There's never a middle ground. When I'm in, I'm all in. Don't get me wrong, it isn't all bad. I've become an expert around people who need caring for. And it's awesome because it just comes natural. But in all other cases, caring too much is just a big giant mouse trap for having your feelings crushed. For once in my life I want to just not give a fuck. I want to be able to live without heavy burdens and sensitivity weighing down on my shoulders. I want to not care about what other people think or feel for just one day. I would say that I'm going to take strides toward lessening my load of caring which seems like the most proactive thing to do, but I've tried to do this more times than I could count. Once it's there, it's there for good.

The Unsinkable

I've been realizing more and more lately that no matter how much you grow up, your desire to be around the people you love never leaves you. As you branch out you begin to value more and more the people and things in your life that are constants, the ones that are always there no matter what. And the more people that enter your life, the more you realize how important your roots are. My high school years were spent fighting with my family and desperately trying to fit in with friends. I promised myself on several occasions I would never go back to that house or those people once I left. Looking back I realize how stupid those thoughts were. My family is my dock now days and all other things in my life are just floating ships, sinkable floating ships, some more sinkable than others. And when I'm sinking, I know to go to the one and only place with the only people that will never fail to be there, holding me above the water. The unsinkable.

Normal

I've always held true the notion that children are a product of their parents. In some cases it's more apparent than others but on the whole the way we are socialized from a very young age determines how we view the world around us as adults, with many other factors playing important roles as well of course. As a kid, I knew what a functional household looked, sounded, and felt like. From a young age, I knew what love was. And from spending so much time at my best friend's house, I knew what love wasn't. It's scary to compare my household from to now. Were we the only things holding my parent's relationship together? How did an environment filled with such love and joy disintegrate to this? The hardest part is every time I go home, I expect things to be like they used to be. I expect everyone to be their normal selves. I have such a tight grasp on this concept of "normal" and the idea of returning back to it. But what if what things are like now is the normal? I mean, how long have I been oblivious the transformation to such hostility and bitterness? Or, how long have they been sheltering it from me? It's absolutely tragic to me- the way my mom lives day in and day out, her frustration and anxiousness and depression. It's a thought that passes my mind more often than any other thought. Sometimes in anger, sometimes sadness, but mostly fear. I share my mom's same caring and selfless characteristics. I never want to be trapped the way that she is. I don't want to dread the next day. I don't want to die with someone and still feel completely alone, and empty and unappreciated. If anyone were to ever ask, I would say yes, I did grow up in a functional loving household. I would say I know what love and marriage is supposed to be and how a family is supposed to work. And I wouldn't be lying. I would, however be lying if I told them that was still the case. Because what I come home to now days is far from "normal".

So we can't always change things in life. We can, however change the way we think about them. Sometimes nothing needs to be changed at all. Sometimes all it takes is an alteration of your way of thinking, your attitude, your processing. In any sense, I've learned to look at the big picture. And if that doesn't do it for you, look at the even bigger picture. Think to yourself: Why am I here in the first place? What led me to this point in time? Retrace your steps, think way way back and remember what it is about this particular place or this particular thing that makes your life worth it. It's not always easy to do this. In fact sometimes it feels like the hole you dug yourself into is too far deep for you to touch the surface again. But remember, there was some reason, some motivator that got you going. It's just a matter of jogging those memories and those emotions you had from the very beginning. It's about juggling that balance of fear and that passion. I find fear to be a deceiving emotion in most senses. Many people see it as a bad thing. But fear means we're feeling. It means we've been blessed with things we don't ever want to lose. Once we stop feeling fear, that's really something to worry about.

We forget sometimes, why we do what we do. It slips our minds how we ended up here. We forget why it's important. We become stuck in these repetitions and forget why we go do it day in and day out. Sometimes we need to take ourselves back to when it all began, and remember why it all began. I can't seem to shake this feeling of confinement lately. Like I'm boxed into split times and workout reps. I'm forgetting to love what I do. I'm forgetting why I love what I do. My brain is all twisted and tangled which is the strangest feeling. Because for all my life the decision to run has been the one thing that has come so easy.

fourth of july fireworks

The last time I blogged was quite a while ago. I've really been meaning to for a long time so here goes... Throughout these last couple years I've learned what it means to fight for what you care about . We go out of the way, pull all sorts of strings, accept the consequences when it involves the people and things we're passionate about. You never really know how much that truly is until you are forced to make the decision to give up or to make it happen no matter how extreme the measures are. I've learned it's good to have things worth fighting with all your heart for. It's good to fall in love with your dreams and maybe even the person you want to share them with. A new part of this lesson I'm just beginning to grasp is that when you truly and compassionately fall in love with with someone or something you will never once look back and regret any of those extreme measures you took to make it happen. So in the end, a lot of it is about risk and going with your gut and trusting your instincts. It's a game of chance, as a lot of things are in life. But you also have to remember that once you know what makes you happy, I mean really through the roof, fourth of July fireworks kind of happy, everything is worth fighting for to fulfill that happiness. So if I could go back to my seventeen year old self and give myself one piece of advice I would say, get to know yourself. Figure out what makes you happy and then invest all you have to make it happen.