Steady as a Preacher, Free as a Weed

The swell of the salty waves, cold, grey, and sparkling, against the clear blue sky beckons me in closer.  The cool sand gives as I walk pensively towards the ocean. I embrace the feeling of absolute abandon as I swim further and further into the water. It comes to the moment where it feels like Kate Chopin's Awakening, how far do I go?   When do I stop?  Do I give up here? Here?

Sitting alone on the beach reading gives a feeling of absolute solitude.  A quiet calm washes over me that is both breathtaking and frightening. The kind of quiet people are afraid of; that people fill their lives full of noise to escape from.  At the beach all the quiet crashes down and overwhelms.  I have a chance to really examine all of the waves crashing down all around me.

A shuttle, two whirlwind plane rides, and a twisting drive to the beach house left me wondering why I’d ever decided to travel to down the coast for Thanksgiving with the amount of work I have to do.  I was quickly handed a heaping plate full of food and a glass of wine and peppered with questions about my classes, friends, boyfriend prospects (none to speak of, thanks for asking), the weather, etc. After the initial round of questions, we settled into a rousing (albeit drunken) family game of Citadel, followed later by a trip down to the hot tub.

As the family slowly dispersed to their respective rooms, I began to realize why I agreed to this half-week of madness.  The screaming babies, prayers said in 3 different languages, too many glasses of wine, and midnight card games are just a handful of things I’m grateful for.  Life is changing so quickly all around me that sometimes I need things like the yearly Thanksgiving beach trip to remind me that certain things never change.  The babies will grow up and take their place playing Shanghai and before long it will be my turn to make the apple pies. 

For now though, I’m trying to enjoy the little things:  walking home after a shift at the Grind and looking at the stars, sitting on my bed with Dan listening to Pink Floyd, frigid fingers and toes, dancing to “Don’t Stop Me Now”, going to church alone Sunday mornings, so many bandaids, laughing with strangers in the airport, sitting in Starbucks with my daddy, taco dip, singing Airplanes with JKarp at College Park Landing.  Life is so very good. In a way that not one song, a phrase, a single feeling can encompass. It is like the feeling after a day on a boat that can only be described as having too much sun, wind, and salt water in your hair.  I’m incredibly blessed for all the beautiful people in my life that are right there beside me when I’m talking to my water bottle, hugging trees, face-planting on bricks, simply shaking their heads saying “oh, Lauren… not again…”

She Danced

Folds of silky material

made ripples on her

spinning body. Faster.

Faster. Faster. She spun

and the world was

reduced to a blur

colors, faces, music

blurred before her

eyes and she spun,

to remain relevant and

alive to remember

the loss of control, she

closed her eyes and

spun, faster. To feel.

To breathe. To announce

with her body  "I AM HERE"

For a moment-suspended

in time she wasn't. She

was spirit. Laughing to her

own private joke. Spinning. Losing

control. She embodied the world.

Her arms flung out embracing

life and freedom.

Just for a moment. She didn't

feel so alone as she spun

faster and faster

We Weren't Bound to Stay in One Place

Thunder crashed.
A quick glance told me everything I needed to know and in that instance we decided, "why the hell not?"

I sprinted out to the trampoline, clambered up the ricktey sides and began to jump.  Rain crashed down, two best friends jumping, screaming, giggling, and hugging.

In that moment, we were infinite.

Short of breath, I thunked down on mat with a bounce and took a deep breath in of the Mississippi air, heavy with humidity and the promises of the future.  On the eve of our high school graduation my best friend and I spent the night gossiping, reminising and dreaming of things to come.  Lying there in the dark, we promised it would always be like this, no filters--just pure honesty. 

That summer we would get tan at the beach...
One day I'd come back and we'd drive around and get coffee and sing John Mayer and Train...
One day we'd find beautiful smart boys that treated us the way we should...
One day we'd grow old and get married and be each others "Cheif Bridesmaids"...
One day we'd conquer our fears and live out our dreams...
One day we wouldn't feel so alone, like the other was the only one who would ever understand...

As I shifted my weight the springs beneath me squeaked; it was a careful balancing act, too much movement would knock the other person over. I was always a fan of the double bounce, both people jumping in sync and vaulting higher than you ever could on your own.

Lots of things in life begin that way, a split-second decison followed by an eager reckless start, the heady rush of adrenaline, promises you intend to keep--promises you promise you'll keep ; but life doesn't wait around, the world spins madly on.

After a while you realize that you aren't jumping in sync anymore and you don't try as hard to make it work. It doesn't mean you don't love jumping any less, but perhaps other things have replaced the sharp intake of breath, the barefeet, the catharsis of feeling free and light. 

Perhaps sooner than we expected someone else comes and fills that void and you start the same jump with them. The same but different, because now we are a little older, a little wiser, a little less dependent; you trust in new ways--strange yet refreshing ways. Things begin to happen that we never thought would happen and we aren't there to share them like we promised we would, but it isn't a bad thing.

We look up and life is happening all around us. I think we just have to learn to keep jumping, to not be afraid to fall off or out of sync, but to get back on and keep trying. One day we will get there (wherever the hell "there" is) as long as we remember our first leap, together.

She's Only Happy in the Sun

"Protect your heart" he said to me, "the world is a cruel place."

I've always lived carelessly, recklessly to the point of destruction. Well, it caught up to me. I broke. I jumped off one too many cliffs, dangled my heart on too many strings.

What is trust but placing everything you hold dear carefully into another's outstretched hands? Trust is the whispered conversations at 4am when the world is sleeping. It is believing that despite everything the world is a good and just place. I was once made to believe for a brief moment that boys kissed on the forehead and they opened doors for girls. For that fleeting instant, I was happy.  You won. You got me. I let my guard down for a beautiful boy with a smile that lit up the room.

I believe we cling to people who are sincerely bad for us. Nan Goldin wrote, "Even if relationships are destructive, people cling together. It's a biochemical reaction,it stimulates that part of your brain that is only satisfied by love, heroin or chocolate; love can be an addiction."

I spent three years addicted to the 'love' of a beautiful boy. A boy who stole something vital from me; he stripped away my innocence and I was left cold, naked, and defenseless.  I felt I was nothing without his love, approval and affection. So I continued to objectify myself to make him want me; it didn't work. In my attempt to prove my continued love for him, or anger that he didn't want me anymore, I sacrificed core values and lost myself along the way. In a sense this is an apology to you, dear one, you will always be my first love. I know I hurt you and that despite everything, we have too much baggage to ever really try again. I'm okay with that now.  In the past three years we have both grown in separate directions and we don't know each other anymore. Perhaps we never really knew each other as well as we thought. Every John Mayer song belted out of a sunroof since last November has been for you. Entirely too many cups of coffee and journal entries have been spent over angst or love for you. My final betrayal, the last act of immaturity, I did to get back at you, I wanted you to somehow feel everything you had put me through over two years. I apologize. He hurt me in a way that you never did. The magic of our first love, was the ignorance that it will never end.

So now I trust sunshine, good music and sun dresses will make me feel alive again; but my trust is frail. Not only is my trust frail, but I am frail. I'm learning how to love and live all over again. It is going to take a lot of time and patience. I know now the world is a dangerous place, but a glimmer of hope remains that someday a boy will want a girl who can discuss Mubarak and Hobbesian theory with grace.

Here We Go Bluebird

Life. Living. Breathing, in and out. Trusting people. Being loved. Feeling beautiful. Doing things that scare the hell out of you. Waking up and realizing how far you've come. Knowing how far you still have to go. Driving. Singing. Loving. Being rejected. Doing something right for once. Security. Routine. Connection in an isolating age. Just knowing. Traditions. Heartache. Screaming. Dancing without abandon. Playing in the mud. Laughter. Friends. Holding hands. Family. Despite all odds, surviving. Waking up and looking in the mirror and saying, "I can do this." Embracing who you are; the weird bits, the crazy bits, the insecure bits, the embarrassing bits and all those other bits that don't quite make sense but when crazily meshed together make you, you.

I met a boy (I know, I know). This boy doesn't like the words "I don't know." He thinks they are a cop-out, because if you really took the time to figure it out, you do know, you always know. It might be hard to admit to yourself, or that you never stopped to consider that the answer was lying right in front of you all along; but you always know. 

Relationships are messy. Friends, Boys, Family. Trying to figure out who you are, while trying to love these people. When things fall apart (as they inevitably will) and you begin to dissect layer by layer everything that went wrong you find that there is never just one answer:  anger, confusion, love, insanity, stability, hopes and dreams, revenge, heartbreak and so many more.  They all intertwine and I've begun to realize its all part of living, breaking down to nothing and building yourself back up, each time adding experiences, new ways to look at life. Life is hard, but never look at life and everything it has given you; good, bad, infuriating,confusing or just plain weird and say "I don't know." Because at that point, we stop growing and learning; we stop living.