Noel

There is this sign that stands above the Starbucks on Main Street during the holiday season. It's the beautiful NOEL sign that has been a staple for quite some time in Franklin, TN.

Recently, I had a friend post a picture of it (not the one above). She noted something along the lines of "being here with him in the place where we grew up" , and I got to thinking about what that would mean for my life.

I left the place I grew up when I was 17. My parents moved us all to TN from Miami, FL. My childhood was filled with palm trees and humidity. The places I remember with the most fond of memories are still alive in my mind. There's the house that I said goodbye to this past March when my grandmother passed away. I learned how to swim in that pool and it's where I discovered music and movies and how beautiful those mediums compliment one another.

My grandparents introduced me to both Hepburns, Dick Van Dyke, Julie Andrews, Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, and the like. The first film I ever saw was Cinderella, followed soon by Mary Poppins. I believed that every time you pressed "play" on the VCR, the actors heard "action" and did it all over again, just for me.

There was Vizcaya, where I had my first romantic walk when I was 15. We strolled through the gardens during the renaissance fair, and never even held hands. I remember it was just thrilling to be with him again, a year or so later, when we revisited the same place as a "couple". Of course,  there are a number of other streets and locations where my childhood blossomed into teenhood.

In the decade my family has called middle TN home; I, myself, have only resided there for nearly 3.5 years. I've lived in Southern California, Boston, New York City, and Chattanooga before coming back this past year, all to leave it behind again to move back to California.

So I wonder if I had stayed?

If I never left Miami, what kind of person would I be? Or if I had never left Franklin, what would I be doing now?

As it is, my journey has taken me through valleys and peaks of the craziest of nights to the most relaxing of days. Because of my travels, I've met people who have taken me on all kinds of adventures. I met Brian, who met me in Budapest, all to take me to London the same day. Had I not been living in Boston, I wouldn't have found out about MXAT, and we wouldn't have met and become lifelong friends. Going to Europe when I was 23 wouldn't have happened.

Had I not been living in New York, I wouldn't have worked at a trapeze school, learning skills I NEVER thought I'd even be interested in, and I wouldn't have met Greg. I wouldn't have gone hiking in Arches National Park and I would never have lived in Chattanooga. Despite the fact that my heart got a run for its money, we still had a grand 2.5 years together.

I would never have shared a cab with Neil Gaiman.
I would never have made out with a famous drummer (always the drummer).
I would never have fallen in love with the people I fell for.
I would never have dedicated 3 years to a trapeze rig.
I would never have spent Christmas in Connecticut.
I would never have had a roommie that shared my birthday and got me way too drunk on my 22nd birthday.
COUNTLESS things would have never happened if I had stayed.

Who knows what would have actually happened. Chaos theory and all that. Some things might still have happened, regardless of where I was at any given year of my life. Good or bad, things still happen.

I am not advocating that every person move around or even leave their home state; but for me, it has been the makeup of who I have become. My advice is to live somewhere else, breathe air that belongs to a different time zone. Meet someone you don't know and fall in love with their uniqueness. See where life takes you because you branched out of your comfort zone.

I am not "going home" for Christmas. I am spending it with people I've never met and some I hold most dear. Sometimes this makes me sad. But then I think to myself, I am not home, even when I'm back in TN. I am not home. Not yet. I haven't left yet, but I don't intend to stay.

I promise, mistakes happen, but God meets us in the uncomfortable. He meets us in the weird and the insane and the dark. He rearranges our lives so we can seek Him out. God resides in the unsure places. He speaks to us directly when we are lost and confused and calling out. Maybe there is something to be said about my willingness to live anywhere and to move at the drop of a hat because home is not a city, or a place, or even a memory. Home is somewhere far beyond what we could ever see in this life. Home resides within us, home is in the hope of the ever after and what is to come.

Merry Christmas. x

Oceans.

I am proud to present to you MY NEW HEART.

Or rather, maybe more to the point of it, a heart that was always beautiful, but became shattered, dirtied, and ill along the way. A heart, that despite it's best cry of confidence, was weakened with every passing wave. Waves that were strong and full of the harsh flavor of salt and the discarded trash that washes up to the shore, only to attack the living creatures that inhabit it. Waves that would take me under and hold me there, hands around my neck, choking me until I could no longer stand it.

Here's the thing. I didn't die. I somehow plucked this courage that had been impressed upon me at a young age, and I swam as hard as I knew how.

Did you ever take swimming lessons as a kid? They have you hold onto the side of the pool, and eventually a paddle board, and they have you kick. You kick hard and for a long time. I remember my ankles always feeling a bit sore during the summer. You are taught how to take breaths as you stroke, and how to hold your breath for a long time under water.

Swimming saved my life.

Swimming to the top of an ocean full of this magnificent storm, I didn't realize that it wasn't my strength carrying me to the top. I was kicking, but what brought me to the surface was the same person who walked on the sea in the first place.

To account for everything that has happened to me in the past year alone would be long, and very personal. The short of it is...I was called back out onto the waves that I was pulled from a year and a half ago. There was a return, in a sense, to a life of adventure and instability. But this time, it was purpose driven, and along the way, there would be lessons to help guide me to what will eventually be my destiny.

Destiny is a funny concept. It implies that once we have "received" our lot in life; that perfect job, that incredible man/woman, the right amount in the back account... we no longer have a journey. We're here, we've made it, and this must have been our destiny. What I've learned is that destiny is what lies beyond what we could possibly receive in this lifetime. This life is so important, and we will have abundant gifts and goodness and beauty, but it isn't our destiny.

Which is why I keep swimming. Swimming in a sea that sometimes is calm and sunny and cool. A sea that makes me feel comfortable and loved, all I have to do is float. That same sea would be my demise some days. The waves and the wind and the panic of losing what I thought I was meant to have. The separation of what I am comfortable with vs. uncharted territory.

The difference these days? I have this crazy sense of peace that no matter what the circumstance, I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I was literally called by name to be right here, right now. And while I want things (boy, do I want things), I am content to simply be swimming in the ocean, with my Comforter and Protector. I am overjoyed to allow Jesus to guide my path as my muscles strengthen, and I learn how to navigate uncharted or unprotected waters.

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand will be my guide
Where feet may fall and fear surround me
You've never failed, and You won't stop now

and in the end; the love you take...

The amount of time that has passed since I wrote down anything, apart from some pages ripped out from friend's tablets, is quite long. After suffering from a major collapse of the ever deceptive heart, I've been healing in my own time. A feat that has proved to be a long and difficult one. I have a wonderful network of people who have shown me nothing but love and patience through this hardship. I've done enough weeping to last myself through about 10 views of Titanic (or any tear-inducing film), and enough irrational bargaining with myself and God that I've been forced to talk out loud to bring my mind back to its normal, rational state.

There have been plenty of ups and downs and random outbursts. Times where I've felt everything at the same time and then nothing, as if I've been erased from my own existence. People will ask me what my "plans" are, and I list them, with no feeling of excitement or intriguing possibility. They are vapid, with no meaning or life. Then, suddenly, I snap out of it, and realize that my plans are pretty awesome, and I start to rev up the engines, only to be paused by my own ghosts.

I could account the past 2 + years and what they've meant to me. I could explain why I miss him and why I hate that he isn't in my life anymore. I could detail every intricacy of him so as not to forget the memories of this now dead chapter. To do any of that would be painful, or maybe not, but I'm not up to the challenge. I've thought about all of those things time and time again and don't exactly need to conjure it up in a public blog.

But tonight was the inevitable "real" end. We spoke a few times, albeit friendly and cordial, most days. May 5, 2014 would prove to be the truth telling farewell. I am not in love with you, but I care for you. I am in love with you, I don't care that you care. Et al.

All in all, farewell. You may be right. You may be horribly wrong. I may be deluding myself into thinking one way, and I hope to God I am sane and that you are the one that is deceived into thinking the way you do about love. Maybe your wish will come true and we will become friends. But I think, dear one, that is unlikely and forbidden, given my undeniable and unreconcilable feelings toward you and our affair. This cannot be condensed into a small and trivial comradeship based on a couple years of love making and laughter. Your decision cannot be undone nor can my focus be muddled.

Just know this is your choice, not mine, as I have stated before this post. I am not doing this. And though you seem to think I have a choice on the matter, I most certainly do not. If I had a choice, I would be over you and moved on so quickly, there would hardly be time for care or a text message. But you haunt me, and I expect you to do nothing else. You are nothing but a ghost I will give up some day. But in the mean time, haunt me the way you have been for days on end, even when I chose not to have you near my heart. Your presence is something I want to extinguish for all time, but when push comes to shove, all I can do is hope against hope you will not rear up in my memory or loneliness.

Be good to yourself. Keep your head up. Grow your hair.