Closing

Last full day in Michigan. Though I am already far from home, farther yet is coming all too soon. I am soaking in the crisp air and the warm steam of freshly brewed tea as I sit perched along the window cherishing every bit of greenery.

It has been so awakening to be home. I am filled with childlike wonder over what was once so familiar and unfortunately too often taken for granted. Fields sectioned by billowing trees and topped by blue skies. And barns! Who knew barns could be so wonderful. Newly constructed crisp red barns that tell of a young family just starting their life off the land, or old faded masterpieces which hold stories about years of harvests gathered by calloused hands. Laundry pinned on clothes lines, tea jugs setting in the sun, livestock scattered through the fields. Ahhh, the cool breeze and the rich aromas.

As equally tantalizing is the sight of fresh water. Almost in every direction I turn there is a body of crystal goodness. No dead fish (@Jeff). It is the simplest of treasured moments to float blissfully under the open sky.

I was so extremely blessed this break to be able to spend time with people near and dear to my heart. I'm so thankful to the bike club in Kzoo for all the moments of honest laughter and amazing food. I'm thankful to Joe for getting me and sharing in all the small adventures. For wild flowers, good music, and rich coffee.

I am so thankful for and so in love with my nephew it's almost painful. And now I have two nephews to cherish. Apartment life, college classes, muddin, shootin, and v-ballin are moments I'll cherish forever. Brothers are growing up so fast.

Daily runs with my dog were much needed by both parties. To be needed and shadowed is a great feeling, no wonder dogs are man's best friend. Just being home felt so good. After making all the rounds it was nice just to sit at the dining room table and listen to the subtleties and never ending commotion of the house.

Quality girl time too! Ashley and Megan, I had a ball. Made up words always work amongst family. And Mal, what a treat to spend the evening with such a fun spirited intelligent woman. Jody, my bosom friend, no matter the time that passes the trail just continues on. Thank you for lighting up my world again.

I was able to spend time with so many people that have been so dear to me. But now its time for yet another adventure and then wrapping up my Master's degree.

There's so much more to write about, so many details but this will have to suffice for now.

Cloudy skies have crept in and I think I'll soak in the rain....

Not Angry Anymore

Detours and fences have up all my defenses I stand by and cry as I hold the hope inside So afraid the door is closing I'm not angry Just longing to let love back in All the while sinking Into a frenzied state of mind

Release

Excercise.
The only means to escape from the pressure.
I run often, swim almost as often, and bike most often.
But the moments when I am pouring it on
Are the moments I am pouring it out.
Stress, worry, regret merge with each sweat drop
and surface in silence.

I am waiting for silence.

Somebody Loved

Nights when the heat had gone out
We danced together alone
Cold turned our breath into clouds
We never said what we were dreaming of
But you turned me into somebody loved

~ The Weepies

Hope

I use the word hope often, too often maybe. Why? Perhaps because I lack a large vocabularly and hope seems to fit a variety of contexts. I hope you are having a great day. I hope the sun comes out. I hope to see you soon. I hope to get a new car. Hope can be passive in the sense of a wish, or active through plan or idea. There are many things I hope for - things for myself, things for others, things for environment - but in all hope is filled with positive conotation and so I think I'll keep using it.

Le acque del mio baia

I am melancholy. I have struggled, resisted, pleaded and eventually acknowledged my tendencies to slip into dismal abyss. But acknowledging is different then accepting. It's a self-induced downward spiral the role melancholy plays. I slide into sorrow and then become painfully more sorrowful because I feel I can't do anything about it; That I lack the ability to lift my face out of the dirt long enough to see the light and crawl towards it. Instead I recognize that I am face first in a pile of sludge and then wail more heavily, inhaling the darkness deeper. Devotion to change takes diligence without assurance. Though I may never have full control over whether my life will continue to resemble Yosemite's geographical landscape, I hold tight to the challenge. Somewhere in my brain, the miniscule part that has been miraculaously uninfected by melancholy's touch, knows that I am capable of "deciding how I will spend my time, whom I will interact with, whom I will share my life and money and energy with. I can select what I eat and read and study. I can choose how I am going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life - whether I will see them as curses or opportunities (and when I can't rise to the most optimistic viewpoint...I can choose to keep trying to change my outlook). I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all I can choose my thoughts."

I once heard a prayer that goes like this, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I know that I can not change the personality that I was given but through God's strength I can learn to stumble instead of plummit. I tell myself, "Le acque della baia mio è mio" (The waters of my bay are mine).

Flames to purge the Brain

I want to set fire to the rain.
I want to burn away the pain.
I want to sear this rusty chain.
I want to set a blaze to this scarlet stain.
I want to torch the rails of this runaway train.
I want to char the memories that render me insane.
I want to scorch the regret running through these veins.